


Give Me A Chance

by seokjinsworld



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Affection, Bonding, Crying, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Glader Slang, Hugs, Humor, I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE IT, Kissing, Love, NEWT BEING NEWT, POV Third Person, Protective Minho, Sassy Minho, Sleepy Cuddles, don't judge me pls, give it a chance, i really wanted to write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-07 10:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 46,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7711300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seokjinsworld/pseuds/seokjinsworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon the arrival of the new Greenie, the leader of the Runners starts to fall for her, leading up to a weird, lovely and sensational relationship regarding his hesitation to try her out. Throughout the story, the Reader goes through multiple obstacles and a rocky road, but won't let it get to her. Drama, angst, and emotions arise as well as love, keeping anyone on their toes of what will happen next. (I change up the whole sequence of events from the movie and book completely to mold this to how I want Minho's relationship with the Reader)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wear It Out.

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy. This will be a build up plotted story, if you all are patient! Chapters will be longer and sufficient after this one.

It was such a lovely day yesterday and now it's blistering heat. She watched the little droplets of sweat go down her nose, her lids lowering then raising to keep up her energy. It was a drag; being made to do farm work, it was strenuous on her back and legs, leaning then bending to dig out potatoes and other vegetables they used to make meals. Lifting her hand to her face, she grunted as she attempted to stretch her fingers, curling them then splaying them out like she's asking for a high-five. It hurt, recoiling when she shook it off. 

  
  
"Damn it."  
  
She realized she was alone except for a boy who snored loudly from his position, on his stomach with his legs dangling off the edges of his sleeping quarters.   
  
"Ew." She mumbled under her breath while looking over at him from a particular loud exhale, building up the courage to get out of her moping mess by thinking of how hungry she was. Her stomach did a growling motion, nearly able to feel it ripple in her skin.

Her nose could smell the scent of eggs and toast, perhaps some jars of home-made jam, and she was suddenly on her feet to rush to the eating area. Despite her hunger, she hated when she got multiple stares and perhaps dirty looks, but she only fought them with an innocent smile, as if she could take on all these boys in a heart beat. The weather didn't hinder her quick movements, her boots splashing the wet mud by the TrackHoe's accidental spill of water from the well and various wisps of tall grass, immediately greeted with posts far into the ground to hold up a wide sheet to shield everyone who was eating. 

  
It seemed surreal, to be surrounded that many people, there could be at least 30 to 40 boys. Maybe more? She was sure that the sheet couldn't possibly hold more than 20 people, since it was being connected by sewing thread to another sheet. Wasn't that a waste? Were they that pussy? She grinned at the thought, but wiped it clean as a strong boy passed, his firm expression making her feel intimidated for a hot minute. She even stopped breathing, swallowing hard. That was Gally, composed and taught all the time, she wondered what crawled up his ass half the time.

Crunching the dry dirt that was under her when she got under the makeshift tent and sighing out of relief, she waved at Frypan who was serving out of kindness. He always seemed kind when it came to compliments for his cooking and she tended to give many of them, him being a lifesaver. She couldn't imagine how it felt to be a cook for a small army. 

Swiping a tray to take the plate of what she had fantasized about previously, she sat down on a stubby tree stump, famished.   
  
Her eyebrow curved when she lifted her head while munching on her toast, her tray being comfortably set on her lap. Was.. that boy asking for her to come to them?  
  
He had an inviting way of trying to ask her, with his eyes. 

  
What the hell?

  
He seemed friendly.. But she didn't trust it.

  
She remembered his name, it was Thomas. Thomas wasn't the type to be rude; He's the one who comforted her on her second night in the Glade. She couldn't remember her name, and she still can't. It racked her brain but she let it be, soon it'll come to her.   
  
She saw him visibly grunt and incline his head at his group, it had a rat-faced boy with soft hash brown colored hair, then a Korean boy who couldn't stop shoveling eggs in his mouth, like he hadn't ate for weeks. She declined stubbornly with her gaze, wanting to glare at him. She was eating, and she enjoyed peace and quiet.

Her fair share of stupidity was astounding, a scrawny teenager and an older looking male were arguing over who would win at eating the most of Frypan's "special" stew, until they both threw up. At the memory, her nose wrinkled and she put her head down again to focus on her delicious hash.   
  
She couldn't decide on whether or not she could live here for a long time.. She already heard about Alby being the first of them to start the plantation and survive then assign Greenie's to work when they piled in. 

  
Cleaning off her tray by the time she was done eating, she jumped as a muscular forearm stuck out on her right side to put his tray on top of the others, his height not towering, but being a bit higher. She could see that he was not waiting for her to get done and she turned her head to see the Korean boy, surprisingly enough. "Uh.. Hi there."

  
He scanned her face with a vague look and then gave an incomplete grin. "Hi." He walked backwards as if he was going to impress her, twisting his body to walk properly towards his group eventually, starting the buzz of a certain topic he wanted to bring up.

  
That was-

  
Awkward.  
  
She blinked until she was going to start her duties, rolling up her sleeves in the process. 

  
"Psst!" Thomas hissed from his seat on a long log. "Hey!"

  
Stopping and pinching the bridge of her nose, she couldn't find the real reason to keep walking. She dreaded it after all. "Yes, annoying one?" She asked, not looking at him, staring straight ahead that was soon going to be her career by that point.  
  
"Sit with us." He told her, putting his plate and tray aside to relax, showing the lack of effort to sit upright.  
  
The rat-faced boy piped up, "You're rather dodgy." He chuckled, rolling his head to lean it on his shoulder, looking up at the girl. "What's eating you?"  
  
"Dodgy? What?" His british accent made it difficult for her to wrap her mind around the diversity of this group, his vocabulary confusing her. She faced them eventually, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not upset, if that's what you mean."  
  
The Korean boy decided to steer this weak conversation to a better direction. "Have you figured out your name yet?"  
  
"No.." She shuffled her feet and closed her eyes, unsure of how to continue this. "Yours?"  
  
Thomas put out his hand like he was going to showcase trophies then pointed at the rat-faced boy. "That's Newt. He's Minho."  
  
"Don't wear it out." Minho smugly said, his mono lids hooding.  
  
"Shut up, piece of klunk." Newt smirked and picked at his cuticles, putting one leg over the other in his mid laying back and half sitting up spot on his left of Thomas. He sat on the grass and dirt without a care in the world, and she wondered if he ever hated getting ant's in his underwear. If he wore any, that is.   
  
"Nice to know," She scratched her temple. "Why do I have to sit with you guys again?"  
  
"Because I can tell you hate your job that you are given." Thomas deadpanned. "Do you think we're that stupid?"  
  
"Yeah, actually."  
  
Newt was just about to drink some water until he spluttered it over himself from his shrieking laugh, Minho grinning brightly at how Newt made choking sounds from regaining air. "Mate.. That was brilliant."  
  
Thomas whirred his shoulders and brought his lips together tightly, huffing, "Newt, she called us stupid."  
  
He froze in his tracks of wiping his chin and he looked up at her. "Hey!"  
  
Minho was too busy not giving two fucks, staring at her figure and her aura of being confident. "I don't care. That was pretty good for a Greenbean."  
  
Seeing as how it wasn't beneficial to sit with them, she inhaled slowly. She hated being called Greenie, what was that word? Honestly? "My name isn't Greenbean, or Greenie, or Purple, or Yellow, or a damn cucumber for all I care, I have a name, and soon enough I'll have it coming to my senses, so back off!" She barked at the Korean, eyes squinting and her legs flexing; refraining from stomping to him and smack him upside the head.  
  
It was silent, including the majority that were talking behind her, her body tense with adrenaline pumping. Boy, did he make her mad in the morning alone. He seemed shocked; hands clutching the log to remain content. "Woah." Minho whispered and exchanged glances with a few people catching this altercation. "Slim it."

  
"I'm going to be working." She abruptly said then forced herself to move on, her hands going deep into her pockets that belonged to her overalls, taking paced breaths to be calm.   
  
"...Minho, should we-"  
  
"Nah. I got this." He snapped at Thomas being the peace maker, then hooked his fingers in his torso piece, it was his signature thing to do when he was occupied in his thoughts. It was strange, how a girl like her could make him feel this way, a mixture of fear and.. Attraction? At the same time, too! What.. What the. That's weird.   
  
"Alright. I'm going to get a biscuit." Newt trudged himself off the floor with a groan and gestured if Thomas wanted one, their voices becoming faded in Minho's mind. He was replaying what had happened, wondering where to start and where to finish.  
  
  
  
How strange could it be that that was the first time she yelled being here, was it disrespectful? She got here not too long ago and she's already stirring the pot of trouble and fighting, arguing, whatever you wanna call it. Gally happened to be already in his form restricting shirt and baggy pants, swinging his hatchet and slicing a log in half for making a bonfire later that night. She watched him from the doorway of the barn intriguingly, her equipment and tools inside. She not only admired how determined he was, but she knew she couldn't stay long, the temperature wasn't letting up. 

  
"Hey Gally!" She said over his next smash of the logs. "Do you need a towel?" He looked drenched, yet he didn't mind it? He wasn't afraid of it, she guessed.   
  
"Nah." He refused, sniffing and rubbing his nose, taking a break by doing so. "What do you want?"  
  
Gally was either hypocritical as shit, or two faced, because he usually is more harsh with his words. She expected him to tell her to run along, or leave him alone.  
  
"I was just asking, is all. Sorry."

  
"Sorry for what?" Gally probed; his face scrunched up in curiosity. 

  
"I thought I was disturbing the peace." She calmly said, not wanting to lie.   
  
The situation was odd, simultaneously meshing with the sensation of bonding.   
  
"You know.." He wrung his wrist with his hatchet and he slammed it sharply into the chopping block, making her gasp from the force he used. "I'm not a slinthead as much as everyone here in the Glade thinks." His jaw clenched then his brooding steps came to pass by her again, shifting his body to the side to slide with no hesitation. 

  
She breathed out of relief when he didn't do anything to her, frowning at the reality that maybe he was right. Why did she think that way, only when everyone fills her head with that he's a bad guy.

  
She should open up her mind more.   
  
  
  
Exhausted, she flipped her hair over in her hands like it was putty, wrapping it up a messy ponytail. It works, she didn't mind it sticking out in different angles, it was hair and people can stick it if they think otherwise. She washed off the dirt and thorns here and there on her shoes, then her outfit, staying as clean as possible. She had worked on the fruits all day instead of the vegetables this time, and she thinks the vegetables are easier to take care of than the fruits. Cracking her back as she bent her whole body over the well, she held it's stone finish and squeezed, releasing tension in her hands and knuckles. "Ahh.."

  
Is it a normal human instinct to feel another's presence?  
  
No, not in ghost form.   
  
Like, actual human?  
  
Breathing humans?  
  
Someone cleared his throat from behind her and she whipped into shape to see it was Minho, the throbbing headache.   
  
"Liked the view?" She couldn't help but ask that question. Did he?

  
"Yeah, I did. I'm a dude, that's pretty typical." He sarcastically threw out, staying in the distance to not startle her. "I wanted to come and say something."  
  
"Spit it out."   
  
"Do you have somewhere to go? A date?"  
  
"Yeah. A date with my uncomfortable hammock." She brushed her palms off on her pants.   
  
"What makes you compelled to be the sassy one here?" Minho asked, but took a long stick from the bushels of grass around them, swishing it around. "Is it a complex that you have, or what?"  
  
"Can you get to what you wanna say to me?" She can't explain it, but she was nervous, placing her hands on her hips.  
  
"I'm sorry." He swished it particularly hard, the sound in the air like a cracked whip. He didn't want to make it an emotional apology, not kneeling to the ground and worshipping everything she touched or landed on.  
  
"Ah." She chewed her top lip and looked away; aware that he could be lying to make her feel better. She didn't really want an apology anyways.  
  
"Wait- That's all you're gonna say?" Stick in mid-air, he dropped his arm in waiting for an answer.  
  
"Yeah?" She was quite the woman to be this way in Minho's mind. He expected girls to be wimpy, maybe bitchy and cute, but she takes the cake. "I don't know how to take that, to be frank with you."  
  
"What a shank." He hushed to himself, then dropped the stick. "Look, I guess I really got on your nerves. But man up. Words don't hurt as much as Grievers do."  
  
"You've seen one?" She interjected to ignore the lecture, blinking at him and buying time.  
  
"Yeah. But I've never gotten close to one until Thomas took one of them down." Minho rarely brings it up.  
  
"What a hero." She laughed and kicked weeds, bowing her neck to face the broken stones built into the mud. It had stopped being hot along lunch time and she was grateful to work in peace earlier without having a breakdown.   
  
"That's all I wanted to tell you."   
  
"Okay. I'll take it as it was." She lightened up and brought herself to walk to him, getting close enough to pat his arm. "I'm sorry too."  
  
Surely, he became quiet, the pat burning into his veins like a wild fire. She wasn't hard with her touch, it was gentle and reassuring. "You're sorry?" He could nearly smell her, she smelled like a strawberry basket that he could barely remember in his memories. He grasped onto it but couldn't completely reminisce.   
  
"I am." She let her lips give a faint smile, revealing her teeth in the sliver. "Don't be cocky, and I won't yell at you again, Minho."  
  
"Don't wear it out." He managed to do it on purpose, getting pushed by his chest in a playful manner and he pretended to act wounded, clutching his body protectively.


	2. Oh Shuck.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho has been missing along with Thomas for the whole day, and it leads her to try and figure out if they'll come back from the Maze in time before the doors close.

Alby's permanent scowl on his face proved he wasn't one to be trifled with on a daily basis, and she could clearly understand to stay away if it came to that. Today; It seemed to have gotten pressed and disfigured. Lunch was as ordinary as any other day to her, as her shorts showed it was hot out for the weather, her bare legs not bothering her. The boys around her started to get used to having a female around, and she was practically praying every day for this day to come.   
  
She did hate the bugs though, the mosquito's nearly eating her skin alive by the hour, and she either slapped a hand to the back of her arm or ankles in irritation. Frypan's lunch for every one is a chunk of bread and hearty soup, with an option of salted meat. She tended to avert her sights to the Box, where all of their supplies are coming from. She stood there, tilting her head until Alby tugged on her shirt sleeve. "Hmm?" She broke out of her daydream and licked her lips when they got dry.   
  
"Come sit. Don't stand there looking pretty. You have work to do after this." He steadily brought his food with him and sat on a wooden stool not too far from where she was, biting right into the carbohydrates that'll fuel him for his chores.   
  
She didn't argue with him as she sat with him on an empty stool that didn't appear to have a name on it, rubbing her sweaty palms on her thighs. "You meant for me to sit with you, right?"  
  
"Damn, Greenie, are you this gullible?" He joked, eyeing her. "Yes, I wanted you to sit with me."  
  
She bashfully ate without a peep, avoiding his stare. Mingling with others wasn't a strong suit, and it became a matter of time when she could blossom like a flower to people. "Shuck." She swore in their Glader slang, having Alby drop his spoon.   
  
"What?"  
  
"I forgot to ask for bread." She said while whisking herself around in her seat to get up, but someone came to sit her back down with a hand.   
  
"Already got ya." That familiar British accent hit her senses and Newt put the bread on the side of her bowl.   
  
"You know I like the bread Frypan makes, thanks Newt." She grinned and turned back around to her initial seating, watching him sit on the floor as he always does. "Doesn't that bother you, the bugs?"  
  
"Bugs are bugs. They don't hurt me." He shrugged, sipping on the hot liquid that steamed up to his face.  
  
This curly haired kid was finished with gathering what he wanted to eat and flocked to Alby and the group he had going on, his face flitting with sadness. "I can't find Thomas." He said worriedly, gripping his tray firmly.  
  
"It's alright, Chuck. He's out with Minho." Alby went back to eating, picking up his spoon. "They'll be back before sunset."  
  
He immediately smiled and nodded in spirit to his encouraging words, getting right to business with his meal. "You're right."  
  
"Newt, do you mind if I talk to you about something later?" Alby asked subtly, his spoonful of soup being wonders on his mood.   
  
"Sure. What for?"  
  
"Ben."  
  
Chuck's attitude changed when he said that one name, and he picked at his ear like he didn't hear anything.  
  
"Ben?" Her voice was piqued in interest, pushing her knees to touch one another. "Who-?"  
  
"Nothing you need to meddle in." The black male instantly cut her off, sopping up his soup with a piece of his roll.  
  
"Good that." Newt chimed in; chewing on meat that was on top of a paper plate.   
  
She looked left to right at the two of them like it was a tennis match, narrowing her vision. She wanted to know, but she thinks it would be better to shut up, in case Alby might get mad or something. "..Okay then."

 

* * *

  
  
She was plowing in dirt and roots, leaves and vessels of fruits stuck out, small thorns pricking her but she didn't care about it. It didn't hurt her much, she had a pain tolerance that was starkly out there. Her knees were covered in brown, hands nearly being stained by vast colors of the berries and melons. She liked the variety the boys ate when it came to being healthy, but she despised the previous challenges to get them to regrow to make more. Her fingernails could be crusted by the end of this and she couldn't have been excited to be assigned more rows. She fought through the sunshine that bared down her back, growling when she picked the blueberries, goji berries and currants in haste, thinking about how yesterday could've been better.   
  
She yelled at Minho, then got an apology and they made up. They talked throughout the whole night, became maybe buds? She couldn't tell if it was possible to be his friend because Thomas and Newt were gaining purchase in that race and she knew they didn't have a problem with it. It was more so internal because she felt there was a struggle she endured in her past, but she couldn't remember a single thing about it.   
  
A bright sun was slowly but surely going down second by second, reaching the gray walls and going past. Alby promised Minho would be back, was Minho late? She refused to pluck another fruit until she could see the Korean waltz through the opening, her eyes zeroed in on it. Her subconscious was throbbing with ideas that he was lagging behind or he was in there fighting off a Griever. It terrified her to the core; She pushed away any negative thoughts to replace them with utmost positivity, declaring it unfair that no one was looking up to see.  
  
She grunted then pushed herself off the ground, blocking out the cry of her companions that wanted her to help them, and she ran to find Alby's tower. "Alby!" She called, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Alby!"  
  
The leader was standing in one of them, merely turning his head to her as he noticed the same thing; the sun was disappearing and night began to fall upon them without Minho and Thomas and their other Runner. "Go and gather the boys!" He shouted.  
She nodded briskly when she caught sight of him giving her an order, her body burning with how fast she had to run to signal everyone to the entrance of the Maze.   
Gally fell out of his hammock by the amount of boys that woke up from their naps to hear the girl signaling them to round up, them flashing by and his resounding moan of pain bubbled in his chest. "Watch it, shanks!" He threatened as they trampled and ran after her to follow, getting up and dusting himself off.   
  
They all crowded in front of the entrance and spoke over each other, asking who was missing and where was Alby. It was panicked situations that made her cover her ears in retaliation, pursing her lips.   
Alby came in the clearing with Gally in tow, them both dazed from the darkness dimming the hall that lead directly into the Maze, where creatures lurked. At least beetle blades didn't spy on them from inside- If they knew they were in there.   
Chuck and Newt breathed fast from having came as fast as they could to hear that their friends were in there, their hands in fists and stances to run in.   
"No one is running in there!" Alby demanded, only to have an uproar from Chuck and Newt, Gally dead set on Alby's decision.  
  
"I agree with Alby! It's too dangerous in there!"  
  
"Minho is in there!"  
  
"And Thomas!" Chuck's heartbroken voice made her heart melt and she was to his right. It wasn't right that they were left in there without a clue of what was happening, and she was itching to make a run for it.   
  
"Listen! I said absolutely  _no one_ goes in the Maze!" Alby nudged Newt's shoulder back to back him up, but Newt was furious. He didn't care if he lost his rank in becoming the next Leader if Alby was to die. "Minho will come back!"  
  
"The doors aren't going to close for-" Gally started, yet the ground under them shook violently, them all gasping and checking to see if it was just a setback. It wasn't. The doors were closing, and the creaking and snapping of mechanical gears had Newt reasoning with Alby to go in, saying he was fast and efficient.  
Chuck was on the verge of tearing up, not wanting to lose any more people in the Glade.   
  
"That's it!" Instead of sticking around for these slintheads to understand that they wouldn't make it unless someone got them, she bolted forward.   
The kid was about to tail after her, but Gally held him back in his arm, swiping with his opposite to catch her.   
  
He missed.  
  
And she slipped in time to roll on her side and away from the heavy slam of the doors closing.  
  
She was in the Maze. Alone. Where Grievers could sting her. Or.. Kill her.

 

* * *

 

She couldn't stay on the ground any longer, she was scared beyond her wits.. She sucked it up, she could get out of this. No matter what they've told her and made her believe in only a few days of being with them. "I can do this. I need to find them." She said aloud to herself, looking over her shoulder to blink at the slit that wouldn't open until the night was done.   
  
She walked and jogged in intervals, paying special attention to sounds and to hear if one of them would talk. "Talk, you shanks.. Talk." She kept quiet in her time of wondering around, taking turns of going right then lefts, hitting dead ends every 10 minutes or so. She was becoming frustrated, her face disfiguring to let out an exasperated groan, standing in the middle of an intersection.   
They could be anywhere in here, she was explained to by Minho that the Maze was bigger than she thought, that he spent 3 years mapping it out and memorizing sections, that the walls..  _moved._ It didn't make sense, hence her fear to realizing this is real.   
She'll die if she doesn't get it together.  
  
She spent most of her time not finding any clues. She didn't know where to start, and she was heading in all ways like a compass. It was draining her energy. The night was flying by and no sign of them.   
  
She tore a frightened scream in the open air when a roar split through the silence of the passages, the blast of wind hitting her. Heart dropping, she hoped that the.. Griever, if that's what made that sound heard her. She tucked her hair behind her ears and frantically felt the walls and green vines, wanting to see if there was a loophole to a hiding spot. You never know.   
Her hands shook like a leaf, willing it away with a gasp; There was footsteps coming her way. It was Minho and Thomas!   
  
"Minho!" She squeaked and held her heart, it was ready to burst out of her chest in joy.   
  
"Run!" His hands waved wildly for her to go, and she was confused, her feet rooted.   
  
"Run!!" Thomas copied him when they both saw her unable to move and their arms flourished with giving her body language.   
  
They were being chased.  
  
A black.. Spider like monster dropped from the air behind the boys that were running away from it, it's pincers engraving it's way at them, the cringing stinger on it's behind making it all the more scary.   
  
".....Oh shuck." Was all she wrote, eyes blown wide with terror at the.. thing.   
  
She got the gist of the situation later than expected when the Korean and the intelligent teenager caught up to her, their legs fast. Her agility wasn't good until Minho had to grab her hand, bringing her to the same speed as them, the screeching scraped the walls behind them, the Griever was climbing the walls!  
  
"You didn't tell me it can climb the walls, you shank!" She whined in despair, her hair flying behind her and her limbs aching with the strain of over-using her muscles.  
  
Minho didn't reply to her and he sharply tugged her with them on a turn to the left, her face showing pain.   
  
Thomas's head was going through multiple scenarios to escape it, or survive it, but her gaze was on the vines the whole time, then a spot under a mass of dead shrubbery that had grown throughout the weaving caught her eye. "Minho!" She used her index finger and showed urgently.   
  
He followed along with her idea, his shoes skidding them to a halt and pulling a bunch of it's mid section away for an opening, sliding in first then getting her inside, it was like a tiny cave for bears to live in.   
  
"Thomas, it's too small for you to fit with us!" He warned, but his friend was climbing the vines by the time he could grab his ankle to stop him. "Shuck-face, no!" He hissed then got on his hands and knees, making room for them two now that they we are alone. He could see her knees up to her chest and hugging them securely, his eyes hardening to be brave.  
His hands were filthy, covered in blood.   
  
"Your hands.." She whispered, face paling.  
  
"I'm alright." He hoped that she could hold in her reactions from then on, it was detrimental to stay quiet.   
  
"But.."  
  
"Shh!"  
  
The Griever had slowed on it's wall climbing, she could hear the vines breaking under the pressure and making the creature slip and slide everywhere, in which she put her head up to the ceiling to pray for the inevitable. What was Thomas doing?  
Thomas was on the vines too, was he halfway up, or at the top? She fumbled with her sweater, the sheen of sweat on her face. She wished she had her tie for her hair, it was clinging to her forehead and shriveling. Minho's on the other hand was still in good shape, miraculously.   
  
It came close, she could feel it pulsate it's body to check it's surroundings. It was aware that they were close or hiding and it wasn't stupid. She held her breath like she did when Gally passed her, her eyes squeezing shut.   
Minho stared at her, then the wall, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He couldn't remember the last time he had a day of peace. Or happiness. It was always danger.  
  
Suddenly the Griever took off, her cheeks puffing in much needed oxygen.   
  
He let himself lower his body and got on his back, knees up. His forearms touched when he laid it over his face, tired as all hell and wanting a day off. "Shucking Griever cut my leg."  
  
"Which one?" She searched for the damage on his thighs and calves, but he wiggled his left thigh to indicate it for her. "Doesn't it hurt?"  
  
His mono lids gave her this 'why are you asking that question' kind of look, peeking at her.   
  
She took it as a sign to stop talking and she rubbed her arms, a cold shiver broke in. 

 

* * *

  
  
Sleep fell upon the two of them, even with knowing Thomas hadn't come back, and Minho was the one to wake up, checking for the clear of the environment. He was sleepy; but he pushed his limits, joints cramping from his slumber in a claustrophobic place. "How many hours did you think we slept?" She couldn't help but yawn.   
  
"The whole night for sure. The sky is lighter."  
  
"I'm so thirsty, and hungry." She complained and mildly got a dirty look for voicing her opinion. "What? I am!"  
  
"I am too, no need to say it, we'll be alright. I know the way back. I'm going to go find Thomas. You stay here."

 

* * *

 

 

  
She stretched out her legs now that she had space and she originally wanted to help him, but then knew it'd be better to let an experienced Runner go out and do it. She constantly had thoughts swirling in her head, she could've died last night. Would every one be happy that they'd survive? Would Gally give her a lecture, be rough with her, act out on her disobeying Alby?  
  
Minho stuck in his hand for her to take to help her up and out, his leg limping slightly. "I hope the Medjacks got some painkillers." He growled out.   
  
Thomas was perfectly fine except for cuts on his face and chest, applying a hand to a particular rude one. "You guys were alright in there?"  
  
"Yeah, but.. Why did you get on the vines?"  
  
Him and Minho exchanged a few seconds of smirks. "We've done this before."  
  
  
They took their time with walking, limping, stumbling, aching, and any other way of describing their painful strides. They took a final turn to see the doors wide open and greeting them was the Gladers, Chuck thrusting his fist in the air in happiness.   
  
"Yes!" He clapped and jumped on the tips of his toes, slapping the others shoulders. "I told you! I told you!"  
  
Newt shook his head and smiled cheekily when he saw the duo walking like zombies, tucking his hands under his pits.   
  
You can imagine Gally's face, his jaw dropped, brows low and his slacked posture. He couldn't believe it. He was sure they were done for. How..?  
  
Alby broke through the crowd of hoops and hollering, not amused in the slightest.  
  
It took them a bit to get close but when they did, they were guided farther in to the Homestead, Clint and Jeff, the Medjacks coming to the rescue with some kits. It was sort of an interrogation until they relocated to the hut that got them to lay back on medical beds, their wounds treated and given food on the spot for them.   
  
Letting them eat, Gally and Alby and Newt remained except for Chuck, Chuck was sent out because he didn't need to be involved.   
  
"I think we should put her in the Slammer, Alby." Gally had this way of putting it, his head tilted for him to get Alby to agree.   
  
Alby accepted his words but didn't agree, he instead went from Thomas, to Minho, then her. He didn't necessarily feel that they should be punished. "It's up to the council, Gally. Not in my hands."  
  
"The council?" He was irked at his response, his ears could turn red and blow steam from the holes if it was in her imagination.   
  
"Yes, Gally. I might be the leader, but those kinds of orders have to be taken up by them too."  
  
He couldn't believe what he was hearing but backed off, his body tingling with rage. "I feel that you should consider it, though."  
  
"Later. Let's let them rest then talk to them properly when they are done being fed and look alive." Alby's steps were dark on the floor that was installed in the hut for cleanliness, Gally sending them all an infuriated feature.   
  
Minho could care less and neither could Thomas, Thomas simply playing his role. She saw Minho flinch in a small manner, the stitch having been pulled too tight by Clint. They hurried with their craft of making them more comfortable, and took off to take another call for a boy out in the fields.   
  
Newt clanked his lower body against a four legged chair, messing up his short cut hair. "You guys look shucked."  
  
"Thanks for noticing." Minho laughed, then winced at the pain it caused him.   
  
Thomas closed his eyes and pressed his cheek on the cushion. "These are better than the hammocks."  
  
"Good that." She complied with their vocabulary, the blanket cozy.   
  
Minho cradled his face in his hand as he got on his side, facing her. "You were great out there. Behaving and not making anything difficult."  
  
"I am not exactly a child, you know. How old are you anyways?" She giggled at how he talked to her like that, her fingertips tingling.   
  
"I don't know. 17 or 18." He had no actual rememberance of his age or of the sort, his puzzled look moving to Newt.   
  
"Have I ever said anything about my age?"  
  
"You said you were 17." Newt recalled.   
  
"..Ah." He collapsed back and his clothes wrinkled with his shifting. "Wake me up when Frypan makes dinner."  
  
"Ditto." Washing on her form, she became dizzy from the medication, her eyes fluttering and passing out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter. ^^


	3. Butterflies.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussing the memories that aren't completely there makes the reader feel insecure, her safe space becoming invaded by the boy that was probing for an answer.. And her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be busy this weekend because of partying. The 4th chapter should be getting to where the atmosphere is right and fluffy and stuffies. ^w^

Newt's hands clapped with a loud bang twice, his body keeling over with laughter. Thomas was doubled in his hammock, his face screwed up. Chuck snorted; shielding his teeth from showing while the other Gladers that were with them in the middle of their memories of being here for the month. It was quite a rowdy month, and she felt that she was comfortable with her emotions once and for all. Minho snickered, the sound making her heart flutter strangely in her chest. Her ears nearly burned in passion to seeing his cheeks raise, his eye-smiles he had cheering her up when she could get him to be like that alone. But it was better in groups, where every one could feel the same.   
  
Thomas tried to grab for breath then put his hand up to calm the hyped boys. "Hold up! Hold up! Remember when Newt climbed on the hut to beat on his chest like a gorilla!"  
  
Newt's mouth gaped open and he reached to hit Thomas's leg, in which he caught his target and Thomas kicked. Chuck's stomach was hurting by this point, remembering clearly too of another instance. He chimed in by snorting again. "Thomas got a face full of dirt because of Gally too!"  
  
"For the second time." Newt smiled with his blonde hair being pushed back by a thin hand, gazing at Thomas. "How was it, eh, mate?"  
  
"Ha.. Ha.. Funny-!" He got out of his hammock and got on top of Newt, crushing him to the ground to wrestle in their way of joking about, their laughs ringing through their facility. They had time until they started their day jobs, hence the tom-foolery spreading around like wild fire.   
  
Minho's cheeks remained the same the whole time, unable to go any higher as both of his neat and kept eyebrows shot up from the two of them on the grass, throwing his head back. He was having the time of his life. Chuck decided to leave since it was too much, it was getting to his asthmatic tendencies, coughing up a lung a few feet away of them.   
  
She couldn't mask her own giggles, her hands settling under her chin and swinging gently on her side of the poles keeping their hammocks off the floor. "Hey Minho! You had too much to drink that night, didn't you?" The reason why everyone was bringing up these memories in the first place was that her ceremony of being a Greenie was a little while back.   
  
He cleared his throat and jabbed his finger at her. "We don't speak of that!"   
  
"Yeah we do! You were asking if cats could eat pickles!"  
  
Newt and Thomas broke off to lay on their backs, watching the dispute of a memory tossed around. "Bloody hell," Newt's eyes widened a minimum amount. "That was intense when Minho had that sweet stuff."  
  
"It tasted gross. How could you drink that klunk, dude?" Thomas's features contorted in disgust and he scrambled to his feet to get his shoes on his feet.   
  
The Korean easily let it go. "It tastes like juice."  
  
"Juice? More like acid."   
  
"I'll never understand the sport of wrestling." She stopped swinging to let her feet down. Her arms loosely rest on either side of her, her head propped up by a rolled up blanket. "How come you take the pain and throw each other like rag dolls?"  
  
She mainly aimed it at Thomas as he was done mocking Minho's walk when he's drunk, seeing him rub the back of his neck in thinking of an answer to her question. "Uh.. Because it's for sport. Not like the Creators will throw us a bone."  
  
"Have you tried asking?"  
  
"We've asked for playing cards, a football, anything. I guess they think we'll use it as a weapon, bloody people think we're animals in a cage." Newt sneered; his language pretty amusing to Minho. Minho didn't seem to mind, his chest rising and going down in relaxation, his uniform clinging onto his skin and his feelings at peace.  
  
Her thoughts went straight down into a spiral about his drinking, her heart tugging. Did her past reveal something about alcohol use? She looked away and rubbed her nose to look alright. She wasn't yet stayed in her facade, her lips lifting in a fake smile. She sawed through her mind for this particular memory, and she hugged herself, wanting to find a home for her problems.   
  
It hit her, the memory. 

 

* * *

  
  
_"Daddy," Her tiny voice echoed. "Why are you sleeping?" Her hands reached out to shake the man, his body wrapped in a blanket. The house was dirty, the tables littered with bottles she couldn't read. A stench in the air reminded her of when their ovens turned on to cook dinner. She could smell the booze on his breath when he woke up startled, turning to her with a dirty expression, he looked like he didn't want to be bothered. "Daddy?"_

_"Baby, didn't I tell you not to wake me up?"  
_

_"Why?" Her words came out broken, ready to burst with tears._

_"You don't understand." His gravelly tone was indefinite, his hands pushing her back to stay away. "Don't come near me.. Don't get this close. I don't want you sick!"  
_

_She sniffled and whimpered as she was told to be at a distance, her mary-jane shoes swathed with dust and scuff marks. She had ran home in excitement from playing with a few friends next door. She asked herself why so many of her friends have vanished. "But.."_  
  
_"I called the department and soon enough they'll come to be here and collect you." He burped and sat up with a few cracks of his back, his wilted state not bothering her in the slightest. She loved him too much. "I'm sorry, pumpkin."_  
  
_"Who?" She squeezed the stuffed bunny with droopy ears, she had named it Ginger when she was 4. "I wanna hug you!"_  
  
_"No.." He burped and took a swig of his new bottle of whatever substance he desired. Shakily walking to the fireplace, he leaned on it for support, out of his standards for looking decent. "Don't. They'll be here any minute."_  
  
_"But daddy!" She whined; then backed up, seeing the craze in his eyes. Those eyes weren't normal. "Can I.. just.."_  
  
_"Argh!" A deranged and crazed snarl came from her father and his lunge at her was the last thing she could see._  
  


* * *

 

 

She closed her eyes tight as if she had a migraine, rubbing her forehead and burying her face in the blanket behind her head. Woah.. That was surreal, and something blocked it off right when she could find what she needed. "Nngh." It was a spark of pain in the front and back of her head, it was indescribable. Like something or someone controlled what she could and couldn't see. It was obvious of why she still couldn't remember her name. Maybe it was for a reason? She couldn't put the puzzle pieces together and it snapped to her senses.   
  
"Hey, uh.. I'm gonna go to the Deadheads for a bit. See if we need any more trees that are down to cut." She made up a charming lie for the boys that hadn't noticed her episode, and struggled to get off her spot.   
  
Minho vaguely crossed his arms, seeing right through her shit. "Be careful. Beetle blades watch you in there." He warned, usually the person to always warn before things happen, his eyes moving along with her walking away.  
  
She nodded and waved at him then jogged along, her throat acting up like it had a vice on it. Her sob threatened to spill out, the sudden splurge of pain etching on her day. What was wrong with her?  
  
She pushed through the bushes and branches instead of going through a walk way that was cleared for them all, hissing as it cut her skin and sprouted blood on her arm and cheek. "Shuck!" She waited to get to a empty part of the forest then clambered to her knees and felt at the wounds. She didn't expect to do damage on herself out of being impatient, instead rolling her eyes at herself. What an idiot to do a thing like that. Now they'll think she's being harmful to herself or others, or worse. "Shuck.." She continued to say it as she tried her best to dab at her cheek, her hands red-ridden and being the material to sop it up instead of her clothes.   
  
She stopped dabbing at it to see the stumps that were there from Gally previously cutting them down to make bonfires, sighing. Why did she have to think  _that_ hard to find a memory of her supposed parents. It wasn't important to her this whole month and now it was? That's strange. Very strange. As Thomas and Newt say, "Good that."  
  
Senses strong, she hugged herself like she did not too long ago, seeming like the better thing to do when she had nothing else to think about. She was sure the boys aren't the type to hug people out of nowhere, so she focused on what she thought was alright for her self-esteem. She found it was extremely wrong but right to be in the Deadheads, it was where Ben got stung and attacked Thomas before she arrived and she shuddered. "Ugh. Why am I even thinking of that."  
  
It was spread around that the moon could be seen from the forest, and the graves they had put up would create zombies. But that was a horror story for Chuck to be scared at night for. She hated that they would tease him for his age, he seemed to be the youngest out of everyone and the most spirited when it came to being happy and positive for everything. She wanted them to take an example but of course, she was a girl to them and it wasn't in their right mind to listen to her when things get bad.   
  
Was it true that her father drinks? Or had a drinking problem because of something serious? Her mother wasn't around, she must not have had a mother? She couldn't think properly, hitting her head a few times on the side with her palm. Damn her.   
  
A rustle of dead leaves being crushed made her turn simply, seeing how Minho followed her. "Shuck-face."  
  
"Slinthead." She smirked at him for their signature insults and repeatedly stubbed her shoe on a nearby stump. "What's up."  
  
"You, is what's up." He dug his hands in his chest piece and took little steps forward, shoulders lax. "Did you remember something?"  
  
She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "I guess."  
  
"I'll take that as a yes." He didn't sit or stand, he was walking around to her.   
  
She sat though since her back still hurt from the day before, she pulled it from bending down too much in her job. "What are you doing here, anyways. I wanted to be alone."  
  
He was caught in his act, his mono lids blinking in surprise. "I wanted to make sure you're alright. Is that a crime, shank?"  
  
She chuckled and shook her head in indication that it was fine, she can't deny him from being around her. She kinda liked it. "Eh.. In every one else's case, yeah."   
  
"Well they're guys. It's not the same."  
  
"So you don't do it with them? You don't care about them?"  
  
"Don't twist my words, I do care. I don't keep a close eye on them because.. You get the point."  
  
She smiled at how he got defensive, inclining her chin from where he came in from. "Go back."  
  
"Why?" He stopped halfway in of getting to her, his face feigning dismay.   
  
"You don't treat me like a dude." She said, looking up to him. "I'm not a dude, but I want to be treated like one, in that aspect."  
  
"Why would you want that?"  
  
"You trying to say I'm weak?" She threatened.  
  
"No- No, I'm not. Slim it, Greenie." He threw his hands up in surrender and gave her his best smile. "Come on, I came to see if you're okay and you're not, so I want to help."  
  
"You want to help? Pfft. Like you know how to help." She scoffed, her eyes on him showing how she didn't register it.   
  
"Yeah, I wanna help. Isn't that what friends do?"  
  
She was perplexed that he announced their friendship, having forgotten it. "Oh.. Sorry, Minho."  
  
"No need to be. What do you think I can do to make you feel better? But first, what did you do to your shucking face?"  
  
She flinched at his way of taking up her vision, his hand cupping her chin and cheeks in one hand, her face tilting in an angle for him to look at the cut. He wasn't exactly proud of her hurting herself either by accident or on purpose, his hold being a little hard.   
  
"Ease up on your hand, princess." She winced.   
  
"How did you get that?" Abiding her request, he released her face to touch it with his index and middle finger. It wasn't a big cut, but it still made him disapproved.   
  
"It was on my way to get in here, no big deal." Her hand knocked his away dismissively and gestured for him to take a chill pill.   
  
"Princess?" He raised an eyebrow at that nickname and grumbled. "I'm not a princess."  
  
"Really?" She joked. "Your hair is immaculate and you barely get pimples."  
  
"I take care of myself!" He laughed, his eye smiles coming back and it nearly made her want to jump up and hug him from it.   
  
"Glad to see you think it's a compliment."   
  
"It is!" Laughing was something he couldn't hold back when someone could get him to, and it seemed to be her all the time. "You're funny with how you think that taking care of yourself isn't a necessity."  
  
"You remind me of the models on magazines before I got stuffed in here." Her hands wrung together over her knees, their eyes glued to one another.   
  
"Still a compliment. Keep going."  
  
"You shave your face."  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"You like me."  
  
That was-  
  
Wait.  
  
A compliment?  
  
Why did she say that?  
  
Oh no.  
  
Minho's head flew to her in hearing her incorrectly. "Huh?"  
  
"Nothing." She quipped.  
  
"Nah. Say that again."  
  
She ecstatically got to stand up to him, inches away from his chest. "You like me."  
  
He smacked his lips and leaned his head forward like he was going to tell her a secret. "I'm not Gally. That's funny."  
  
"Seriously?" She spluttered. "G-Gally? Gally likes me? You're insane."  
  
"He's totally into you. You're fantasizing about me because you know I look out for you."  
  
She flailed a hand to point at the trees. "Gally? That Gally out there that tried to put me in the Slammer over saving your shucked asses in the Maze? You're out of your shucking mind."  
  
"Ooh, that language." He beat around the bush with a suave turn of his feet. "Here we go."  
  
"Don't get me started, Minho!" She turned him around by pulling on his arm, his hand being freed from his chest piece. "You're saying you don't like me but Gally does? And that I'm into you because you stick your neck out for me and ruining your reputation if you liked the only girl in the Glade?"  
  
He held his hands out palms up. He didn't know how to answer this. He did like her, she was correct with calling him out. Especially in the Deadheads where no one could hear unless they peeped on them. "I don't."  
  
"You're such a liar, Minho!" She pushed on his chest piece, his stance unwavering.   
  
"I'm not lying."  
  
"So you'd rather hurt my emotions further more instead of owning up to it?"  
  
He didn't think about it like that. She  _was_ the only girl and girls didn't take things the way he would. The moral of the point was that he was hiding his emotions from here and it didn't make their situation better.   
  
"Not to be avoiding this subject, but were you upset because I drank alot that day?"  
  
She frowned and weaved her arms together, stomping her foot. "Yeah, I was. See, I was being truthful. Your turn."  
  
His guilty features scoured his face and he scrunched up in his nose in a cough. "Yes."  
  
"What was that?" She put a hand over her ear to hear him better.

"Yeah. I like you, Greenbean."  
  
"I have a name, but when I figure it out, you're going to say it in that sentence." She slyly nudged his flat stomach.   
  
"You?"  
  
"Me?"  
  
"You like me too?"  
  
"I do, slinthead."  
  
"Shuck-face." He replied inquisitively.   
  
"What are we gonna do about it then?" She looked up at him hopefully.   
  
"I have no idea. But I think you can understand I haven't been in a.. relationship." Minho was uncertain of how to be a good boyfriend or any of the sort and he pursed his lips.  
  
"Well instead of grabbing my face the way you did to check out my cut, you could kiss it."  
  
"I'm  _not_ kissing your face."  
  
"If you like me the way you do, you'd want to." She figuratively said.  
  
"I would?" Questionably and unsure about it, he stayed still. "I don't know."  
  
"You don't have to do it at this moment. It's a thought. We're not going to be up each other's.. Ya know."  
  
"Got you. Got you." Minho agreed, swiping his sweaty palms on his hips.   
  
The awkwardness was cute, and she didn't know what she liked more. His inexperience with affection and love, or the way he'd look at things other than her when he attempted to be stony.   
  
"Holding hands? Cuddling?"  
  
"What about that?"  
  
"Would you do that with someone you like? Or love eventually?"  
  
He shyly, albeit not wanting to be shy, he nodded suggestively. "I think."  
  
"Aww." She bashfully brushed her hair back from her face.   
  
"Are you feeling better?" He tried to slide into a third subject, his smile held back.   
  
"No." She pouted slightly and backed up in reflex. "Sorry for being close."  
  
"You always hug yourself when you get unsure about stuff.. How about.. A hug?"  
  
"That's also what people do when they like each other, you know that, right?" She inquired, afraid to look up to him.   
  
"Yeah, I do know that, for sure. Do you want a hug?"  
  
"Yeah." She closed her eyes and willed her hands to stay down, her breath barely coming out.   
  
His body moved to her without a second wasted and it embraced her, his arms going around her head and taking her head into his chest. She wasn't that small, but he could swallow her up in these hugs. He was so warm.. And he smelled like soap, making her senses at ease with him. He wasn't that bad at hugging. She raised her limbs to squeeze him, into the hug.   
  
"You're not bad at this."  
  
He hung his head and put his chin on her head. "Shut it, shuck-face."  
  
She giggled, though it was muffled in his collar bone, tempted to kiss it. She didn't since it was inappropriate and he'd probably be scared off for going too fast. "You are, though.. I like your hugs even if this is the first time that you did."  
  
He hid his proud grin from her as she was busy admiring him, squeezing her firmly in the moment. "You good?"  
  
"One more minute." She nuzzled her cheek on his chest and began to hold him tight, her giggles not restrained.  
  
"You're enjoying this too much." He laughed at how she sounded, his cheeks hurting from straining his smile.   
  
It was like puppy love to the both of them, finding comfort and experiencing things together and it mattered to her more than it should.   
  
"I am."  
  
"Should we let go?"  
  
"Yeah, we can let go." They let go simultaneously to gaze into their eyes, lips open a bit as if they both had to say something.   
  
"Should we head back?"  
  
"Yeah." She briskly patted his side and started walking with him to the Homestead.  
  
"We'll get those cuts patched up and then you can eat with us at breakfast." Minho mentioned, moving a branch for her to swoop under.  
  
"I can?" She grunted as she went under on his command.  
  
"Why not. I want you to sit next to me."  
  
She couldn't hold back this.. This feeling. This was possibly the first time she felt butterflies in her stomach. And she loved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this up! I really did! 
> 
> Leave a kudos if you like this and would like more.


	4. New Job, Greenie.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being assigned her new job with Gally isn't the best, but it sure does open the reader's eyes to what Minho talked about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm never the type to write chapter's back to back, but this story gives me ideas like crazy. Let's pray I don't get writers block over the weekend.

Bright and early and eating up what's left of her breakfast with Minho, they sat close like they were already into each other, where Thomas and Newt would give similar glances, mainly out of being insulted because their best friend would be okay with it. Usually he's stoic. Minho always made smiles and direct eye contact with her, unlike the squad he rounded up. Newt perked up at having a good meal and stretched like a cat under the warm sunshine. "Ahhh, this better be good, mates. Working, that is."  
  
Thomas yawned and it seemed like his mouth could eat a whole hand, it was that big, his yawn. "Right. Like that's gonna happen."   
  
Minho and her walked side by side on their way to the entrance together, talking about if it was a possibility she could be a Runner too. He quickly stopped her and got in front of her to hold her shoulders, his height making it a bit intimidating. "Hey.." If she could give him her name, it would've been better to phrase this. "I don't want that to be possible."  
  
"Why not?" She sadly asked, staring at his eyes with care.   
  
"Because. You saw how we became at ends with those things and were their night time snack."  
  
"Technically we weren't, because we're alive and breathing at this minute." She furrowed her brows.   
  
"I say no. I'll make sure you don't if you request it by Alby."  
  
"Minho!" She stepped once to him and her eyes had this downward turn, resembling a kicked puppy. "That's not fair."  
  
"I can't let you become a Runner. It demands too much. As you can see.." He saw Thomas start to go towards them to start off the day out in the Maze, they are always in there from the time they wake up, to the time they come back for dinner and repeat. "It requires stamina and manpower."  
  
"Don't give me that 'manpower' klunk." She had distaste for how he might think she's weak and can't take it. "I can do it."  
  
"No." He gritted his teeth and he stiffly gave pressure on her arms, them having slipped from her being closer to him. "I have to go. You have work to do, too." Her pure fate in his decision made his heart sink, but he wanted her safe and sound, from liking her this much. "Go."  
  
She fought the urge to push him like she always does when she got frustrated and his damned 'manpower', turning to walk past Thomas broodingly. His head swiftly turned as she passed, his expression asking him silently, "What's up with her?", but was met with a glare. 

 

* * *

 

She hoed her potatoes and cut the bases of lettuce heads to chuck them onto the large woven basket that's given to her for her to collect the vegetables, having switched from fruit, which she was grateful for. She was growing sick of thorns being stuck in her breasts by accident or on her wrists. Watering them wasn't a problem, it was a great task to be given instead of getting down and dirty in the soil. "Ugh." Her gloves that she wore were helpful, grasping vegetables when it came to her being sweaty. The winds grazed her hair and face, her sigh spilling out of her lips in exhaustion. It was around a few hours of doing this, pluck, put in the basket, bend and twist, grab a tool, pluck, repeat.   
  
She didn't want to look at another vegetable for a while until boots squeaking came to her hearing. She assumed it was a Glader asking her to do a second activity and she groaned. "Don't ask me to do the fruits again, I swear-!" She turned with her tool in hand to be scary but dropped it, biting her lip. Alby was the one who was behind her, and she immediately felt bad in talking like that to him. "Alby-"  
  
"Get up. I got a new job for you, Greenie." She could sense this job could be either intermediate or moderately hard, so she couldn't be too happy about this decision.   
  
"What kind of job? Is it taxing?"  
  
"You'll see." He put out his hand and she took it, being lifted to balance. "I hope your hands don't hurt too much."  
  
She took a look at them when she pulled the gloves off, turning them over and over to check. They were sore? Nah. "No, they don't."  
  
"Very good. You're getting the hang of it."  
  
"You can say that." She mumbled under her breath low enough for him to not hear, him guiding her in the direction she didn't think he'd be taking her to. She was thinking Medjack, maybe guard of the tower, but he was.. Taking her to the area where the lumberjacks cut the wood? Why? This was eerily becoming the worst job she could think of. Gally has that job. There's no way she'd get along with Gally in this. He's the main one who cuts. Not her. Not Minho, not Newt, not Chuck, not anyone. What the hell? Why, was all she could ask herself.   
  
As they walked, he did a double take on her face when she got near to be side by side. "What's with the cut? Was it the thorns?"  
  
"Yeah. Probably."  
  
"Gal!" He shouts for him to come out of the barn, and is tugged on his shirt from behind, amazed at her agility to hide. "Yes?"  
  
She was behind him, not wanting to show herself to the other log cutters that were busy. "Don't you think this isn't my.. Skill? Strength?"  
  
"You said yourself to me that day when you came here that you didn't want to be treated like you were a weakling, didn't you?" He concurred; sending her a wave of sheer angst. Damn, he was right. These boys are smart when they don't have the mind of half eaten cheeseburgers.   
  
"I did, yes, but.." Her defeatist attitude proved itself when Alby chuckled at her, coming to his authoritative state as Gally came to them, his hands being wiped with a hand towel.   
  
"Gally, since you're in charge of the cutting of wood, I got you the Greenbean to help, since you requested for a new worker for things to go faster." He informed, looking at him expectingly. "Is she okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine with it." Gally tucked his lips in, wetting them. "She can get to it right away. Thanks, man."  
  
He clapped both of them on the back, her body nearly flying forward from the force of it. Alby, come on. Gally hadn't moved a muscle, having probably gotten used to it or isn't as fragile as she was. "Gally, I don't think this is the right thing for me," She began.  
  
"You just got here and you're already whining?" His voice held an annoyed tinge. "Get to the barn."  
  
She gulped and trucked herself up the rugged hill to the barn, trudging inside, the double doors open wide to anyone to go in for tools or anything to clean their hands. "I regret saying what I said very much." She said to herself in a whisper, fed up with her ways of seeming tough. She really needed to learn to keep her trap shut.   
  
"We use either a big ax, or a small hatchet, it depends on the size of the tree we get down in the Deadheads." He instructed, showcasing the row of them. More than half were missing, presumption made that they were being used. "I will show you how to swing, where to direct your core strength into the wielding of it, because the wood is tough. And when I say tough, it's tough. Got it?"  
  
"Got it." Her voice rung throughout the barn even if it was small.  
  
"Let's get to it." He took one of them off, it was the hatchet. "Since we cut down a small tree from yesterday, you'll do that one. These sessions normally take 30 minutes, maybe 45. Big tree's take up to more than a hour. We work separately so we don't get distracted." He leads her out the opposite end of the barn that also had a opening, the stump ready for her and the block already on it. "We cut in the center. Thats the target." His voice was gruff for the morning.   
  
She was worried that she'd fuck up on the first try but puffed her chest without any hope. "I got this, Gally."  
  
"Really?" His nose flared critically at her testing the limits. "You're sure?"  
  
"Mm. Gimme the shucking thing."  
  
"Jeez.." He handed it over and put his back on the barn door, his light colored eyes scheming this whole thing. This was going to be a disaster.  
  
She held the foreign object with a puff of air, the thing was heavier than it looked. She moved in front of the block next, preparing to swing until she brought it down as close as she could, her hands gripping the handle with all her might. It barely got half way in. Shuck. She tried to pull it out, but it took the block with it. She let go of the hatchet out of her ridiculed state, letting the whole thing drop. It fell with a thud.   
  
His face was about done as her life, and he was going to laugh, instead he morphed it into a sneeze, covering his mouth while turning his head to side. "Yeah-right." He said during the sneeze, sniffing in a judgemental manner. "You-totally-got-this." He continued, enough to let her hear, his face showing as if he never said anything.   
  
Withdrawn with his actions, she resented how he mocked her. "Can you help, Gally, instead of having the flu over there?"  
  
"What? Me? Help? I thought you said you got this." He smiled proudly at the fact she was helpless with getting the block and both the hatchet inside it off the ground. "What a shank."  
  
"If I say pretty please, could you do it?" She struggled fruitlessly with it, her arms shaking and knuckles turning white. "Gally!" Her eyes shut, and her eyes opened to plead with him.  
  
He felt bad eventually; and quickly got her to stop by swatting her hands off, using one of his own to lift the hatchet out with a wrench of his wrist. "There, princess Greenbean. Better? By the way, what's with your face?" He saw how the little stitches that were across in lines over it, and it seemed to be her lucky day that people are fascinated with her face.   
  
"Thanks." She thanked him bitterly of his 'help', rubbing her hands.  
  
"I got to see you practically dive into the Deadheads, what was that for?" He interrogated her like he normally does with everyone, and she was thrown off by it.  
  
"You did?"  
  
"Yes. I'm not blind."  
  
"I wanted to be alone."  
  
"...Right."    
  
Bystanders looked on then got back to what they were doing; knowing Gally isn't the one to be messed with on the down low. He put the hatchet aside and put his hand on the back of her neck, making her look at him. He was actually an inch or so higher than Minho, and she physically bent her neck back to see his freckled face and ginger-ish hair. The bunny she had when she was younger looked like him a bit and she popped a smile on her face. He was going to tell her if she can handle this on her own without supervision.  
  
"You think this is funny?" He asked with utmost seriousness, his eyes hardening.   
  
She used her hand to try and rub her cheek and make her smile go away. "Sorry.. A memory came to me. You remind me of my bunny when I was little."  
  
"What?" He took his hand off of her like as if he's been scorched by a hot oven, his head turning to see if any one heard her say that. "Don't say that, shank." He grimaced, his face already heating up. "Repeat the cut and work."   
  
"Ginger." She blurted out; further hiding her smile and turning to get the hatchet.   
  
His repetitive insignificant looks caused her to laugh aloud, most of her days of being in the Glade involved her laughing by far. "Sorry!"  
  
"Shut your trap!" His cheeks physically gained a rosy color and he forcibly kicked a log over, needing to move on into the barn. "Work!"  
  
"You know I love ya, Ginger!" She playfully called out and he cried out for her to stop talking, his hand being pointed at her from the far end of the barn.   
  
"That's not my name!"

 

* * *

 

It wasn't the best thing for her constantly chronic hurting back, her spine going to break in two if she doesn't stop doing this. She sucked it up; hissing every time she had to carry the logs to it's specific place, stacking on top of itself. "Alby.. Shuck. This job is going to kill me." She said aloud when she was alone, the others have gone off to eat dinner, and her stomach growled with the need of food to take in calories that she had burned off wielding a damned ax and hatchet.   
  
Sun setting and she could sense the shade of tree's becoming cooler down on her as she was under them, eagerly awaiting for Minho to come back. She never doubted him after they were in the Maze together and were forced to sleep in that tight fit of a cave in the wall. She couldn't tell if he was a best friend or a huge crush like she would in a school that she couldn't remember going to. It was hard to choose.   
  
She could see his figure emerging from the Maze's shadows and she instantly jumped up. Fixing her shorts from riding up between her legs, she sprinted actively down the lawn to wave at him, wanting to be the first person he saw when he comes back. It made her heart swell when he did the same, his goofy smile making him such a good best friend to notice her like that.   
  
His feet were hurting, but he fought it like he always did to reach her, giving her a high-five. "Your running ain't that bad." He complimented, letting Thomas go ahead to clean up in the bath hut. "I'm sweaty, it wouldn't be wise to touch me yet." He walked with her to the bath hut and used his wrist to get a hint of his temperature. He was burning up from working himself the whole day and he was thirsty, having run out of water while in there. "I'll be out in 10, you should wash up too."  
  
"In there with you?" She cracked a grin at him; and he inhaled sharply. "Flustered?"  
  
"Don't." He swung open the bath hut door and got her in first, his uniform coming off in a flash. The stalls they installed for each Glader gave privacy, and it was a grace for her to not be spied on.   
  
"Why not? I didn't mean it seriously."   
  
"Shank.." He pinched her to get her to stop talking and she yelped, slapping him.   
  
She obeyed him though, not understanding boys at all when it comes to that stuff. She didn't actually want to.. Bathe with him. In a million years. No. Just no. "I'll be in my stall, tell me when you're out by poking on the curtain or something." She advised, her feet pattering on the floorboards when she got her boots off, able to breathe. 

 

She took a little bit longer than him, but made it out in time when she saw everyone sitting down, grabbing a tray to get Frypan's sandwiches with meat and cheese, the side being beans or fruits. The water was cold this time, and she grabbed two for herself, smiling with glee as she found her spot next to Minho, their thighs touching. He was tearing right into his sandwich, not stopping to have conversation with her. She could agree, the meat was perfectly cooked and grilled, and the cheese melted into it. "Woah.. Frypan, thank you.."  
  
Minho used a napkin to clean up crumbs on the inside of his mouth then moved onto her, holding her chin to make sure he got everything. Her lips were dabbed too, the juice absorbed into them, plump as ever. "You're as messy as me.." He teased, using a last dip on her cheek to get sauce off.   
  
She couldn't help it, she didn't get to eat in forever. "I got a new job, that's why."   
  
"Huh?" He sipped some water to slow himself down, his jaw rounding as he swallowed.   
  
"I got to be Gally's pet in the chopping blocks." Stabbing her steel fork into her fruit, she munched on the crisp berry. "It wasn't in my skill set but I did my best."  
  
In awe of this news, he should have a word with Alby. "..How was it." He spooned a mouthful of beans to keep his cool.   
  
"It hurt." She giggled, picking at the crust of her bread.   
  
"And?"  
  
"That is all I know of that job. And plenty of lifting. I feel like I lifted a bunch of your body weight's with that hatchet he gave me." She bumped him lightly with her side, wanting to see him have a witty comeback. He was troubled.. He ate, but he was troubled.   
  
"Minho..?" She rubbed his arm with her palm in concern, her eyes roaming over his torso and head. "You okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask? Keep going, I wanna hear it."  
  
"Are you.. Jealous?"  
  
"Of you in Gally's leadership? Nah. He's got his head in the game. I'm good." He was eating those beans fast, like he wanted to hurry it up and leave for important things.   
  
"I swear if you're lying to me.." She bit the sandwich in making it a goal to make him be fully open to her about these things. These were important if they both knew they liked each other. No more secrets. It's shucked, if there is plenty of them. 

 

Their pace slowed dramatically, them both taking their time to talk about other things, including their age, or where they think they came from. She thinks she's Minho's age, 17, but looks like she is 14, or 24, she couldn't tell. He thought it'd be funny if she did turn out to be 24, and he called her a cougar. He definitely felt that because of his accent, he wasn't born in a country that involved his heritage, and she looked.. Where she came from. There was no way to pin point it. She was that unique. A few bites later, he wasn't done eating, he still wanted to bond with her, they almost got close to holding hands between the thighs that touched. Gally had come back from his job, tremendously late to their feast and conversations. It seemed that Newt and Thomas and Chuck were going to lay off of Minho since he was.. Clearly busy with her and they wanted to talk about something privately not regarding or involving Minho, they'll eventually tell him when he's free.   
  
His head went up to seeing Gally's tall structure and he felt the need to punch him where it counts.   
  
She chewed obnoxiously due to a big part of meat in her cheek, and she used her hand over her face to not be rude, gazing up to Gally shuffling to sit opposite of them. Was this gonna be bad..?  
  
Minho's breath was the thing she heard closest to her, and she could tell he wasn't fond of him coming over unexpected. "Hi."  
  
"Hi." He got beans too, bringing it up to his mouth and blowing to get it to cool. Minho inwardly prayed it'd burn his tongue anyways.   
  
Her throat slid the food down and she felt constricted, the way that the boys stared each other down.   
  
"Can I sit with you guys?"  
  
"You ask after you sit?" Minho sarcastically responded to that stupid question.   
  
She snorted and went back to eating her sandwich. He wasn't phased by Minho's sass, and he put his elbows on his knees, as if he wanted to discuss something. But it wasn't merely what she thought it would be. "Can me and her talk alone privately?"   
  
Stung; The Korean bit his bottom lip and bowed his head. Would he give in? They weren't dating or anything, so he can't say no. And if Gally would be nice, and didn't bother her, he wouldn't have a problem with it. "Yeah.. 'kay." Minho got up with a moan, his back aching. "I'll be taking a nap."   
  
She didn't want him to up and leave, wanting to reach out and pull him back. "Nngh." She grunted in acknowledgement, then saw Gally vying for her attention. 

 

* * *

 

Their talk wasn't necessarily the best, it had him blowing away his chances to let out what he truly wanted to say, stopping himself by eating. She didn't know what he wanted, he would start with, "So.. Greenbean.." And then his face would be in a plastic cup and mouth occupied with a fork or spoon. He must've been this nerve shot. "I don't know how to say this."  
  
Her tongue picking a piece of meat out of her teeth, she jutted her chin. "Say it."  
  
"I'm not sorry for how I acted back there at the barn." He said all at once.  
  
"You're not?"  
  
"I'm not, because you have no idea how to work it. Greenie, you suck at chopping wood."  
  
"Nice to know that you think so." It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that she was that bad.   
  
"I didn't want your buddy ol' pal to rush to your aid if you got hurt." Gally rounded his posture, his cup being placed down in it's circular indent. "I thought you'd be able to take criticism."  
  
"I take it all the time, in fact, you big headed oaf." She ordinarily would throw something at him in response to being 'criticized' like that; but she decided it'd be better to damage his ego. "Criticism isn't your place when it comes to me doing my best." Her nose turned up and she targeted her fork at him. "Gally, I really don't give a klunk if you thought I did bad. Deal with it, or ask for another. I'm doing what I can."  
  
He searched for a part of her that would be vulnerable, but there wasn't one. It hit his core, having thought she'd cry and sob that he's rude and would request that she wanted praise. He got the polar opposite. What.  
  
"You're not-?"  
  
"Angry? Gal, please. I might've got here like a month ago, but you don't get to tell me that. I can tell myself that, not you. You're not my boyfriend, my mentor, my boss.. Whatever you think you are."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Being rash was the fuel to the fire, and she smirked smoothly. "You thought you were going to sit here and have your way with me?"  
  
He didn't speak, he seared his eyes into hers, clashing with his bossy aura. "I.."  
  
"Grow up." She said gently, her eyebrows slanting to show her distant attitude. "I'm a girl, but I'm not dumb. Eat. There's better things to complain about." She reversed his words that he gave her earlier on him with a hand touching his hair, ruffling it. "I'm not going to let you finish because you don't deserve it, and don't apologize either."   
  
He closed his eyes and became numb, her hand an example of his loss. 

 

* * *

 

  
Minho was asleep already in his hammock, it was the cleanest and well kept compared to every one else's, and it had her thinking about how it'd feel to be with him in the same spot together, swinging about and looking at the stars. His sleeping face got her inspired to wake him and ask him if she could join, her own restless figure not getting close to any sleep. She tip toed around the slumbering boys, careful of hands and feet sticking out in odd angles. Some snores rung out, some gargles, but she avoided contact with them. Getting to her knees that was by Minho's side, she grazed her finger tips on his shaven cheek, tickling him.   
  
He groaned, his head moving farther back until his hair lifted to make him look funny, still asleep. He looked really cute when he was in a dream, his almond shaped eyes would crease and she wanted to kiss his forehead. She grazed a part of his chin and he opened his eyes inch by inch, chest baring from the open buttons of his pajama shirt. "Hmm.."   
  
"Minho.." She whispered lightly, putting her chin on his forearm that ran along the edges of his hammock.   
  
"Yeah?" His dark and in awed voice made her smile.   
  
"Can I hop in with you since I can't sleep?"  
  
Thinking about if the hammock could take it, he decided to nod anyways, his body curving and jamming himself to have a dent for her. She slipped in with a creak of the sturdy poles, the hammock making them swing left to right subtly.   
  
Being pressed against him like this wasn't bad, he smells like soap and just.. himself? A boy scent? She wrapped him in a side hug, her legs bunching over his and snaking around to make a leg lock. It could almost be romantic if it wasn't for them being friends. He'd rather hug her than have to sleep by himself most nights if it came down to it being a question. "Is this okay for you?"  
  
"I'm good, Minho." She reassured with a rub of his ribs, feeling his form from under his comfortable clothing. "You?"  
  
"Mm." He grunted that boy grunt that most do in TV shows, indicating their tiredness and inability to answer their girlfriends.   
  
"Mmmm." She repeated with a longer hum, seeing him peek at her to see what she meant by doing that.  
  
"What was that for?"  
  
"Nothing.." She laughed quietly, her head nestled between his shoulder and neck, doing her best to look at his face too.   
  
"You only woke me for this?"  
  
"Yeah.. Does it bother you?"  
  
"No, not at all." He slightly grinned, his arms full of heat and his body radiating his chill mood. "I like it.. I've  never done this."  
  
"This is cuddling."  
  
"I know." Minho trailed his fingertips on her hands, one of his arms holding her to him and the other bent so he could hold one of her hands that laid on his torso. "You told me about holding hands.." Their fingers laced together in the slivers that were soon filled, the pads of his fingers touching her knuckles.   
  
"You got the hang of it.." She could be love drunk, or was Minho giving in to what they felt together? Everyone was in la-la land but it counted to her all the more.   
  
"I'm not boyfriend material.. But it's a start." He mumbled to her, looking at their hands simultaneously as her.   
  
"Good that." Her eyes searched for his and they met, his body actually becoming hotter.   
  
"A kiss.. How do you do that?" He broke the ice on this subject, his tone airy. It was fast.. But he was ultimately curious to try.   
  
"Like.. This."   
  
Up and up, she got to his face, scooting and wriggling her waist to worm her way up his side, the tilt of her head showing she was ready to share a first with him, their first kiss. His first kiss, probably, she has no clue if he ever did have a girlfriend before all this, but she went on. Lips touching, they both came together and pushed, the hand that was intertwined with his being gripped passionately.   
  
She wasn't at the stage of loving him, but she was feeling it would come sooner than later.


	5. Patience is a virtue.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working every day wasn't the best for her state of body and mind, stressing her continuously. Minho comes to terms with her being a Runner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are long, I feel kind of bad because the first chapter is a let down for being short, in my opinion. Let me know if this is a good story! I'd really like to know.

Conquering dreams isn't an easy thing to achieve. 

And it frustrated her very core every night she slept with Minho in his hammock, abandoning her own. It had become tedious to see him rest along, and she began to wonder if she became too clingy for his tastes. Her head was swirling and vivid on her tidal wave kind of dreams, it ranged from bad to good, then back to bad in less than a minute or two. Some of them didn't make any sense and it'd keep her thinking for the rest of the day. 

It wasn't worth it to dwell on the past she can't remember; Thus blocking out any negative energy that came her way. She'd be at the brink of finding her name and then it'd disappear in a fog. It wasn't fair! She needs to know. It's her right. "Nngh.." She groaned aloud, her body can feel her partner's body squirming too, probably for comfort? She raised a hand to curl around Minho's neck and stuffed her face in it, her body curved straight into him to make sure she didn't fall off the sides of their sleeping quarters and onto the dirt.   
  
"Nnnnn.." She groaned for a second time, her nose scrunching up like a bunny's would while eating delicious carrots. "Mm.."  
  
"If you keep making those noises, I'm going to push you off." His tired voice erupted from his throat, and his arms stretched from it's disposition of either being crushed under her or losing circulation.   
  
Giggling sleepily, she rubbed her cheek on him, in awe that he could stay this warm. "'m sorry."  
  
Smiling slightly and his dimple pointing in on the right side of his face, he kept his eyes closed to take in the moment. They've been sleeping together.. Not in that way, and closely knit together like two peas in a pod. It was inseparable. He could deal with her antics and she could deal with his snoring. It seemed like perfect sense to like each other for that reason. They relied on honesty and loyalty like most couples would, then onto how she could make him smile in his sad moments and he could get her to laugh at his way's of being himself, he guessed. 

It's been a few days since their first kiss, and they haven't kissed further more, mainly out of fear that they might mess up. Or worse; Fall too hard and get too serious. Serious as in higher expectations the other boys never had a chance for. Sex. He didn't look like he jerked it every night and moaned her name and neither did she, they both wanted a close bond. A bond that was about being best friends and lovers at the same time. Resisting temptation can be a good thing and there was no rush to be aggressive and tugging and pulling in intimacy. 

Intimacy can be subtle.

Minho respected that absolutely and gave her space when she needed it, and he'd stop when she felt pressured. It made her proud that her decision wasn't Gally to like out of the whole Glade, in her opinion. It would be a while to admit any kind of love, that's for sure. They were at a young age, she assumed she was a year younger than him, or older by 2. She had no recognition about how old she could be if she knew. 

He already said it wouldn't make a difference, which led to her ruffling his hair and him whining that he didn't like when his hair got messed up. 

Such a princess.

Their hands found themselves together like shoe laces, and squeezing tenderly. His tired voice still remained, "I have to get up.."

"Yeah.." She said sadly, not wanting him to leave and give her morning cuddles. It was the best part of her day. Not to mention, their night cuddles are pretty cool and they both drift off together at the same time.

"Lemme up." Right as he was going to sit up, her hand pushed him down gently, a growl coming from him. "Come on, not again."  
  
"One more minute?"  
  
He opened his eyes slowly to see her looking at him with her gloomy expression. "Hey.. What's the matter?"  
  
She had been feeling.. Depressed. Deep deep down in her heart and she couldn't find out why. It's like her past was forcing her to feel a certain way about someone and she didn't know who that someone was. She wants answers to her questions and her emotions were not working at all! "I don't know, Minho." She fretted, her eyes downcast on his clean pajama shirt, using her index finger to trace circles on his stomach.  
  
His arm that lost circulation came back to it's normal state to bend and let his hand touch her hair, twirling it in between his fingers and caressing her scalp. "Wanna talk about it?"  
  
"I do, but then I don't.." She sniffed, her allergies might be getting to her.   
  
"Are you crying?"  
  
"What? No, I'm not." Her eyes raised to stare right into his, and she admired the color of his eyes. It was a deep brown, and she loved them when the sunshine would get in it, to see the swivels and turns of the hazel through out the iris. "I'm not crying."  
  
"It's okay if you do." He explained in advance, his dimple returning on his cheek.   
  
"Nah. I'll be okay." She ran her hands over the buttons that went down his chest, distracting herself from the reality. "I.. I wish that I can know my name and get a memory. It's killing me on the inside."  
  
He wasn't in a joking mood, so he totally understood how it felt to be lost. He decided to let her know that, by picking up her head in his hands so they maintained eye contact. Her skin lightly wrinkled with his hold and it was adorable, overlooking it to be serious. "I trust you. You'll get it soon."  
  
His words broke the dam and she sniffed, this time it was an opposite sniffle. Her orbs welled up in salty tears and her lips plumped up. His eyebrows slanted immediately and he stroked her cheeks, his head inclining for her to see what he meant. "No.. No.. What did I say?"  
  
"You're kind to me. Thank you, Minho." He may not be good at comforting crying girls, but he didn't ignore the signs that this was an obstacle she can take. "I hate that you know me this well."  
  
His teeth revealed in a sly smile. "I hate it too, sometimes." His smile lessened as he saw a tear briskly go down her face, dabbing it away with his shirt. "No tears, come on."  
  
She averted her eyes and coughed, intending to be brave like she always acted to be. This wasn't the right setting to be this way, not when everyone was sleeping around them and he wanted to be off for Running and get a good head start. His dabbing on her eyes was careful and faint, as if he was afraid he'd poke her eye out. He finished to hike her up his body, his arm holding her waist and getting her to be at eye level with him.   
  
She used her fist to rub her eyelids, her sniffs coming in intervals to hold in mucus. Her crying face must be embarrassing. "Give me a kiss." He suddenly whispered, placing her forehead on his and romance filled the atmosphere. His little freckles and beauty marks could be seen at this angle, and she blinked at him, her lips already split apart from breathing through her mouth.

He wanted a kiss.. He was sweet. Sweet as a lollipop, and she really wanted to stop liking him this badly because of that. She cracked a rather soft smile, her lips meeting his in their second ever kiss. It was full on, a lip lock that had her stomach get those butterflies from that previous day. His tongue made an entrance, the kiss becoming more than what it should've been. 

He took his time with this, yearning for her at the same time, and his free hand set on her arm, holding it gingerly. He didn't know what to do with his hands or arms as he kissed, and he thinks it's his worst feature to be sexy. He didn't have a bad taste in the mornings like most boys would have, and she allowed his tongue to be entering her mouth, bringing her own out to moisten their lips during this.. Session? They both went back and forth, until she stopped him, her breath faltering and having to cut it short. "Minho."  
  
"Mm?" He couldn't speak, his mind cloudy at how great he felt.

"You have to go get ready." She said quietly, her esteem lowering and her legs resembling jelly. 

"Shuck." He remembered with his head falling back on the pillow he had underneath, turning his head to the side in exhaustion. "You're right."

"Go wash up." She pecked his neck as it was exposed for her taking, able to feel his pulse bounce on his skin. It was fascinating. "Thomas should be up too, but obviously he's out like a light."  
  
"I'll get him awake. I got it." Receiving the kisses made him chuckle and recoil, nudging her away from those spots. "Agh, not there."  
  
She got an idea, yet she held his hip, lifting her upper body up to look down at him. "Why not? Ticklish?"  
  
"No." He scoffed, as if he was bluffing.   
  
"You're ticklish there aren't you."  
  
"Yes." He admitted a second later, a laugh bubbling up in her gut and she kissed the hand that shielded his ticklish areas.   
  
"Alright, go." She got up with a stumble, catching herself on a nearby post and adjusting her clothes. She saw him get up soon after to yawn and stretch like a Lion in the pasture, his hair reminding her of him being electrocuted by technology by accident. 

His strides were long when he reached down to slap on Thomas's cheek various times, not in a harsh manner, though. "Hey, Thomas. Get up, shank." Due to Thomas laying on his back, he bolted at the slaps and his eyes bulged in fright from who slapped him, looking around while holding his hammock sides. He saw Minho standing above him and slumped in return to his actions. "Let's go, man."  
  
"Alright, give me a second." Thomas grumpily motioned for him to go, snail-like in making his way up to stand.   
  
She shyly rubbed her arms and slipped into Minho's hammock, rolling around in it's left over warmth and scent. She could rest until it was time to work, and she had a headache as it was, drifting off as soon as she got cozy. 

 

* * *

 

Blurry and faded, she couldn't figure out who was talking to her and shaking her relentlessly. She moaned aloud and pushed at whoever tried to get her out of bed, hearing a dignified sigh of annoyance. "What do you want..?" She asked into thin air, refusal to wake up being established. She hadn't estimated the time either, how long did she sleep?   
  
"You're an hour late to your duties, and Gally is going to start looking for Alby if you don't hurry up and go." She recognized that British accent anywhere, and she put up her hand to block the light that was shining at her eyes to see him. Newt's blonde hair shone out of cleanliness, hands in his pockets and his stance showed he was going to shake her.   
  
"Nah! Ah! Don't shake me again!" She panicked and put her hands out, the light that she had blocked now making her eyes squint. 

He smirked then became lenient with her, taking her hands to help her up, small encouraging words at her disorientation didn't ease her booming headache. "You can walk?"  
  
"Sort of." She flipped her hair out of her face and wavered, holding her forehead with a hiss. "I was sure my head would be fine by now."  
  
"What's wrong with it?" He was intrigued, getting her to face him and he didn't dare to touch her without her being okay with it. Though he felt that he had too, prying her hand away to get a sneak. There was no bump or bruise, it was more internal. "Do you want to see a Medjack? They have medicine."  
  
"No, I can get it to go away." Her hands were at her sides, head feeling like it could burst. "I promise."  
  
"This isn't a matter of bloody promising me that you're head will be fine, you're in pain." He felt quite bad for shaking her, did he trigger it? His eyebrow engraving his growing concern and it was causing her to be queasy. "Plenty of pain."  
  
"Newt." Gritting her teeth and clapping a hand his shoulder, she could feel how bony he was just from that alone. "Go and do your thing. I'm up, so there is no need to harp on me."  
  
Having no choice to leave her be, he might as well tell her something else too. "You missed breakfast. Lunch should be in a bit."   
  
"Got ya." She didn't mind, that wasn't a problem. Her headache made her lose any ounce of hunger. Releasing him to head off to the hill and go wash up and be presentable for the long day ahead of her, her overalls that she wore were baggy on her frame. Did she lose weight? She brushed it off, looping her thumbs in her pockets. She got up to the hut that's for showering and minimal cleaning, and she grimaced as she walked up to the metal basin to brush her teeth and wash her face, hunching over it. 

Couldn't the Creators give them better accessories? The toothbrushes were a bit stiff but it got the job done, so she can't say much on that topic. Rinsing her face and applying a bit of pressure, she did everything to take the grogginess out of her aura, then she took her time with glancing at herself in the mirror above the carved counter. She seemed miserable, a bit pale like she was going to vomit any second. 

She swallowed nervously and dried her hands with a towel that was strewn on the opposite sink, running it on her knuckles and palms. She needed to get herself together. What was wrong with her? She left the lonely wash room and trudged down the hill; her hair bouncing and going by in the breezes, the air was warm, which caused her to be surprised.   
  
It was warm, and not hot. It was supposed to be a brilliant thing, but she didn't have the time to care about that, the days she got burnt down her back and face wasn't worth it to think about. No wonder Minho was sun-kissed.

She saw Gally preparing up a table of axes and hatchets in the far distance, the boys being huddled near the chopping blocks and barn. She couldn't tell if this was going to be a speech or a lecture or some sort, she should block it out if it is. His clothes were snug around his thighs, calves and torso, immediately asking herself in her sub consciousness if this was a weather appropriate outfit, it's like he was showing off how built like a brick house he was.

She got close to know that Gally now had her in his sight, and he tucked his hands under his armpits. Great. "Late." She didn't bother to say something to that, she already knew she was late, no need to rub it in her face. She was going to take her seat next to a Spanish kid and a ginger who was always on time to cut for his life, then hearing what her 'leader' had to say.  
  
"I don't appreciate tardiness." Gally started with.

"And I don't appreciate you acting like you own me." She sneered, sitting after he froze up from her not being in the mood to be told off, crossing her arms against her chest.   
  
"You're lucky I don't throw you in the Slammer for the day by your shucking hair, Greenie." His monotone attitude had a distaste to it.   
  
"I'd rather be in the Slammer than hack at stuff every morning and afternoon. I might as well walk there." She deadpanned, lips set in a straight line.  
  
His nose slimmed and he twisted a fraction of an inch to stare at her, not amused in the slightest. "I'm sick of your back talk every day!" He spat. "Shut up, shank!"   
  
His shout rung throughout the section of their working area, the boys jumping and her eyes fixated on his blue ones that resented her. She didn't have any energy to have a hurled insult like that towards him, and she raised a hand in surrender for him to talk.  
  
It was silent until he broke the ice by inhaling sharply, his finger pointing to the Deadheads. "I have our project; To cut down six to seven trees and get it done as soon as we can. Got it? I'll be leading, so grab an ax or hatchet and we'll be on the move." He snatched his signature ax and moved aside for every one else to take one, chin held up high. 

Taking an ax to work with, she wasn't completely sure if she can handle the weight of it but held it anyways without a peep.   
  
"If I hear any one complaining, I'll give you something to complain about!" He let his voice be loud enough for every one to hear and they either nodded or ignored him, refraining from giggling at that.  
  
They marched like soldiers to the forest, her head looking out to the farming and plantations, wondering how those boys have the stamina to do all this willingly. Did any one get headaches, or what? Her forehead was surely going to spark a fever if this pounding didn't cease, making her hold it to will it to go away. She wanted to get this over with and get to eat something, maybe that'd make it better. 

 

Gally instructed them to go a little above the bases of these trees, and that every one should have a partner. To his dismay, she was adamant about being alone for this task, and it made him want to rip his hair out of his head. Was she really that difficult to him? Did he even still like her? Before she knew it, he stalked off to bark at a pair who weren't swinging correctly, and she was left to be by herself like she wanted. She used the vast majority of her strength, her shoulders sore and her arms certainly going to fall off by this rate.   
  
Her legs tensed up and her back had an indescribable screaming motion with every turn and bend, the half hour she was doing this being excruciatingly slow. To top the icing on the cake, her head. Still. Hurt. Shuck, it wouldn't go away no matter what. The next swing wasn't as powerful and it was pathetic, having to struggle to get the ax out of it's sliver that it had in the wood. She leaned against the tree for support, not caring if she got splinters in her fingers. 

She whimpered and cowered, her knees buckling by the pressure on her brain. She had to keep going, she'd get through it. She will. She would. She can. She got off the tree with regret, taking the ax in hand, but her shoulder dipped, the uneven posture having her wobble. When she finally got to lift it, she couldn't focus on the world around her. 

First, the ax dropped.

Then did her body to the stones and pebbles underneath her. 

Her face was crushed into the moss and chips of the ax's work, her eyes were on her hand that was out stretched meanwhile, it was twitching. It'd be a matter of time for anyone to notice she was not making any noise, and they weren't that distant from her. She whimpered again, her cheeks trembling and letting out waterworks in shame. She should've said something but she's stubborn as all hell. The boys must've taken notice and they sprinted to her, their hands prodding and palpitating certain limbs to see if she was seriously injured.   
  
"Where's the blood?" "Did she fall?" "Where is the cut?" "Did she get stung?" "What happened?"  
  
They were talking over the silliest questions and she hated how she crumpled on the floor, surrounded by either judging glares or pooled irritation to her reactions. They had called for Gally at one point, and she crumpled more, not wanting to be berated for any of this, but instead he crouched to her and got his hands holding her wrists, tugging her up roughly then standing her up to hold her bridal style, her form creature-like.

"Get Clint and Jeff." Gally advised, stern with the boys that were freaking out and going to make an important call to the Medjacks. He had a steady jog while she was in his arms and she planned to thank him if she was able to after she'd get better. Out of the Deadheads and going towards the huts decorated with straw or hay on their roofs, he got to bring her inside to lay her on a bed, Clint and Jeff ushering the guests out who wanted to stick around to see what would happen to her. 

 

Memories floated about in her vision and she didn't exactly understand what her mind wanted to show her, it was all over the place.

 

* * *

 

 

_Dingy and dusty curtains blew around from the open window that was not too far from where she was busying herself and she had Ginger on her chest, hugging the death out of it. It's button's for eyes were on the verge of popping off it's ragged face. The nose had no thread, and one of it's droopy ears were ripped, the cotton hanging from it's opening. It was given back to her by an armed man that came out of her friend's house that she had been to that last week._

_Her friend Jane was sick, they said._

_And that was what she had in her hands before they detained her._

_She didn't understand what detained meant, so she thought that she was being taken to the hospital to get better. Which made her hopes up that she can play with her again sometime soon, though she was mad that her favorite bunny got torn to bits in the process. Why would Jane do that to her stuffed animal? Ginger meant so much to her._  
  
_Patting the bruise that was on her cheekbone, she whined a little. Daddy struck her that day when she woke him up and made him angry, the people he said that were going to collect her didn't come, they sent them a notice in the mail that their city was to come to them if they wanted to be transported to the facility for a "cure". Why did Daddy have to hit her?_  
  
_She lifted Ginger to see her face and gave it a smile. "You wouldn't hit me, right?"_  
  
_It didn't answer, instead dangling in her tiny hands._  
  
_"Right." She answered for Ginger, nodding with confidence. She pretended Ginger was giving her a kiss on the nose, and it gave her a spark of joy from that alone. Her parents didn't have the time for hugs and kisses anymore, so she found it was better to rely on Ginger. She was all she had left when it came to friends and having fun._  
  
_She heard everything her mother was saying to her father downstairs, their shouts getting louder and louder, it seemed like a big discussion about them leaving him._

 _"You can't come!" She started with, her hand on her forehead in ultimate decisive mode._  
  
_"I will go with you if it's the last thing I do other than drink a bottle of this whiskey on the way!" He ordered, his next sip on his glass being messy, the liquid riveting down his chin._  
  
_"You're masking your sickness!" She hissed; reaching to paw it out of his hands but he got it out of her reach, eventually it fell out of his hands to shatter on their kitchen floor. The sound made their daughter gasp from her room that Mommy put her in at the top of the house. "You'll get us all sick!"_  
  
_"Hey!"_  
  
_"No, I'm leaving with her and you're not coming with us, damn you!" She gave up, going to collect her, and knocked one of his many bottles to go with the broken glass out of animosity._  
  
_"She's my daughter too, you can't do this!" He pleaded, getting off the stool to hold her in his arms, preventing her from leaving._  
  
_"No!" Mommy shrieked, and she pushed the man off of her, her steps heavy and lightning fast on their broken staircase. "Don't you dare come up here!"_  
  
_Mommy was mad at Daddy for how much he had to drink, and all she knew was that the stuff he drank was nasty, like the cough medicine she had to take when she was sick. Mommy was constantly on him about it, and she never understood why. Was it bad to drink a bunch of that stuff? The house was a wreck, garbage at every corner and the furniture strewn around like a whirlwind hit the house in it's insides. She didn't think it was a problem, because Mommy said she was going to fix everything. She was happy, packing her tote and book bag with all the stuff Mommy wanted her to, hands grabbing handfuls of clothes and necessities._

 _A clash and a bang made her jump and whip around, staring at the door that she was presumably locked in, her feet mobilized. "Mommy?"_  
  
_Mommy came in after a clank and chink of the lock she put on it, shutting it after herself and locking it for a third time that day. "What's wrong, is Daddy going with us?"_  
  
_"That's the thing, sweetheart.. He won't be." Mommy was rummaging in her dressers for something and she wasn't tall enough to reach the ones she was in. She wanted to see, leaning on her tippy toes and tilting her head left to right. Her mother went through each of them, all the way to the lowest ones to the ground, her arms piling with either underwear or shorts, and she could see her eyes wet from crying._  
  
_"Mommy.." Her daughter saw her drop the materials in her hand held suit case, and she couldn't back a heart filled weep, slumping forward to put her hands on the bed. "Why isn't he going with us?"_  
  
_"He thinks he's okay, but he's not. Are you done packing?" She sucked it up for the sake of not wanting this to be dreadful, her face being rubbed by her palms._

_Her beauty had diminished, and her eyes seemed sunken in, from starvation or being tired. It was scary to see her transform like this.. Not to mention she hasn't seen her reflection in who knows how long; her husband smashed all the mirrors out of his unknown phobia. She guessed it was from his sickness. Her hair was in a tight ponytail, the ends frizzy and her skin was imaginably caked with dirt like she was. She still wore her uniform, her black and white cotton dress barely making it down to her calves. Her school was closed for eternity by what they said on the news, that most of the children were sick or.. Dead.  
_

_She hasn't seen the outside of the house for weeks, to months. She couldn't catch up with what day or what time it was, just sitting around while her parents went in between every few days to scavenge food. What happened out there? She was clinging onto hopes that it wasn't a wasteland. It was spread around about the sun, something that was supposed to provide life had done something tragic and along those lines scorched the earth. Buildings were burned, and houses disintegrated, whatever that meant.  
_

_She took off the channel after getting bored and realized that her favorite shows to watch after school had been shut off of every broadcast station, power lines went down and water was scarce. It's like it dried up and they were transported to the Sahara Desert. This wasn't okay for her condition._

_Having gotten used to it, she became stoic in moments like these, her face void of emotion and her face dazing off to nothing in particular. But when she was with her mother, it came back to her that she loved her with every fiber of her being, albeit her not being around too often. Her father wasn't good to depend on, and he gave up way earlier than she did. She nodded to her question and wanted to hold her hand, running up to her to hold it with a lively squeeze of love. Love. Love is what she wanted to show, that her daddy couldn't give her anymore. She deserved it._

_Mommy smiled like she hasn't felt this love and she knelt to her, taking Ginger to put it on the bed, her hands taking both of her little girl's with a meaningful hold. "I love you so much, baby girl.."_  
  
_"I love you too."_  
  
_"We need to go.. Promise me you'll be strong and brave until we get there?" Her voice was losing it's will, and it sounded like she needed a cup of water._  
  
_Nodding was all she could do, her big orbs shining. She was going to leave.. See the outside for the first time in forever. Was she okay? Was she going to survive? "I will, mommy." A kiss was placed on the bruise and then her other cheek, Mommy's lips being chapped. But she still could feel her mother's reassurance and heart with it. She wanted her safe and healthy and this was what had to happen in order to get it moving along._

 

_Belongings in hand and Ginger in the other, she went down the stairs cautiously with her mother, clinging to her side and checking for their father. He had passed out on the couch, whether he was faking it or it was actually real, she couldn't tell. Her mother kept her behind her back, her suitcase handle being squeezed in a vice-like grip like she was ready to swing it at him if he came to life on his cushioned seat._

_She undid the door and got it open, the unbearable heat outside having her daughter squeak and step away from it, her face screwed up in discomfort. It was hot- Why was it hot! Would she be able to go out there?_  
  
_Her mother turned to her and got her head in a shawl with a thick scarf, it wasn't winter. She guessed it was because of the sun. Mimicking her daughter's shawl, they both left and didn't look back. The air wasn't moist at all, it was horrible and no wonder she was cooped up in the home. Their was times that they had to stop and go into someone else's home and rest there, after making sure there were no "crazy families" according to Mommy. She didn't get it, everything didn't make sense!_

 _"Mommy, are we almost there?"_  
  
_"We're almost out of the city." She said, their legs burning while they hiked up the hill to get to the forest part of town, her suitcase having been long forgotten and they couldn't bring it with them no longer. The less they had, the better chances of going to the facility faster. The facility was to be this small building in the middle of nowhere, away from the sickness and the airborne diseases, and she hoped the trees would give them shelter from the sun's rays._  
  
_They had gotten there in an amount of a week.. Two weeks? A whole month? The days were long and bad, the water they had was nearly always warm but it was better than nothing. Her dress ended up becoming ripped when they climbed certain things like fences or when they ran from a crazy family, her mother protecting her at every cost, including with using a pistol they had picked up while scouring a home that belonged to a hunter. It was a gold mine of food that hadn't gone bad too, it was heaven. Canned peaches became her favorite fruit._

_Her mother brought them to the sliding door and she knocked, hit and kicked at it. It's like no one was in there or listening to their cries for help._

_....Until they were face to face with guns and various officers, the entrance was peeled open and a gun shot rang through the air after a middle aged man screamed, "One of them is a Crank!" All that was heard, and a flash of red came to her senses, the blood spots rained on her arm and right side of her body, her head thrown back when the officer grabbed at her to get her away from her mother that wasn't her mother no more.  
_

_They shot her down in the head and called her a Crank._  
  
_Both of her parents were sick this whole time... Yet her mother saved her by bringing her to them in safety. She knew this would cost her life. Her sickness took longer than her father and she made sure she spent her last days getting her there. She didn't know how to feel, being brought away. Her mother's corpse was the last thing that she could see, and Ginger that was next to it. Ginger, too, was gone from her life, reaching her hand out for both of the two things that mattered in her life. "No!"_

 

* * *

  
  
  
A light is being put in her eyes and she swats at it like flies were in her face, groaning then squirming. She could feel tweezers plucking out what were splinters in her hand, not feeling it; It was the painkillers they gave her. "Ow, stop putting that klunk in my eyes.." She grumbled, her opposite hand lofting on the sheet that they put over her.   
  
Clint put the flashlight back in it's cup with other medical instruments, glancing at Jeff who let the next splinter thud with a tinny echo on the bowl. "She's alive."  
  
Alby interjected, his elbows settling on his thighs. "After Jeff is done with her hand, I want a minute alone with her, Clint." Clint rolled the cart away from her, the swabs and cloths cleaned up her state from when she fell. She was grateful, her eyebrows shooting up from the pain exploding in her hand.   
  
"Shuck!" She swore and Jeff had to still her wrist, having gotten the last of the splinters out.   
  
"That was the last one." Jeff applied ointment and wheeled the gauze to gather any rising droplets of blood, taping it up then taking his things to sterilize them. Clint followed, apology written on his expression on their way out. 

The black male folded his sleeves neatly to the creases of his forearms, wanting to be wise with his words. "Greenie, you were late today. Want to tell me about it?"  
  
"I had a headache."  
  
"That's it?"  
  
"To be blunt, Alby, yeah."  
  
"I don't think you understand how you could be late over a headache. You could've asked for some medicine to help you."  
  
"No Alby, I thought it was a regular headache, and I don't sleep sleep unless it's night because I'm exhausted from the activities I do, ordered by you." She explained, sitting up to reason with him. "I thought I could sleep it off since it was like two hours until work-"  
  
"So it's my fault you had a headache?" He was appalled that he was being interrogated when this was supposed to be about her. "Hold up, Greenbean.."  
  
"No wait.. I.." She wanted to word this better and she wanted a chance to get it right, or else she'd be thrown in the Slammer or worse; Thrown into the Maze like Ben if Alby was heartless. "I mean.. That I've been hurting more than usual because I work like they do. And the jobs aren't easy. I'm not like you guys and I.. I guess I should've said it in a way where I'm saying that- I'm not as strong and I'd like that if you gave me less hours and could give me an easier task. I don't know, cleaning the huts, cleaning up the kitchen after Frypan is done with the cooking. Not actual labor."  
  
"If you asked me this, which you are right now, I'd have to make it easier on everyone else." He was strict on his word and she closed her eyes, hands bracing themselves on the bed. "I can't do that. I know you're not as strong, but I'm sure you could handle it. A headache could have been fixed if you came to Clint or Jeff."  
  
"I thought I could handle it." She mumbled.  
  
"You didn't. That was mighty rude of you to act like this is my fault that you're in that bed." Alby was inwardly angry about being blamed, and she hid her face with her hands, her knees to her chest. "I won't give you a new job, but you can choose cutting wood or farming. That's it. Those are what we need. Pick."  
  
"I'll go with farming." She decided through her fingers, sliding them up into her hair. Did one of them remove her hair tie? Where was it?   
  
"Your dinner was brought to you personally by Frypan, eat it unless you want it cold." Alby took the tray to her and she held it carefully, looking up to him. "Don't mouth off to me again, or you get to have a night in the Slammer."  
  
"I understand." She felt undermined by his actions, he had leadership, no wonder he wanted Newt as an understudy. Newt was as bossy as anything, Gally was just plain cheesy when it came to directing people. "How long was I out?"  
  
"5 hours."

"What about Runner? I could be a Runner." She nearly got out of bed, the option popping into her ideas. "I could."  
  
"Runner? The medicine must be making you mad."  
  
"No, I'm serious." She frowned and clicked her tongue. "Please."   
  
He took a breath and didn't want to give her a job without consent of the Council. "Minho declined already when I asked, so I'm asking you," She quipped.   
  
"You already asked?"  
  
"Duh. Ever since I got Thomas and him out of the Maze."  
  
"I'll think about it. Have a good night."  
  
She bore her stare into the back of his head when he left and then started on eating, reminding herself that she hadn't had anything to put in her stomach for hours. Minho should be coming back, or if he's already in the Glade, he's looking for her. What if he isn't, and she's having false hope? Way to go. For today, she was eating sausage with a bunch of other meats that were savory, it was definitely pig.. The carbs came from the choice of rye bread or white bread, ripping at some of them to have smaller bites. The seasoning was mild on it, and it was a delight. Frypan listened to her request about not putting too much.   
  
She had soup, which was on the level balance of cool and hot in certain patches. It tasted like sweet and sour flavors. He cooks well, out of all the meals she's had. Her memory redid itself like a record, and she didn't know what to make of it, doing her best to pay attention to detail.  
  
It vanished.   
  
Her memory..   
  
Her memory was gone.   
  
She couldn't remember it- It was gone! Wait! She dropped her spoon and groaned, her back hitting the pillow behind her. Shuck! She shouldn't have thought too hard! What happened in the memory! "Shucking.. Shuck!" 

 

Minho jogged on the grainy texture of the Maze, reaching the giant appendages that clicked when put together right as the sun sets, exhaling a puff of air. "That was interesting, Thomas."   
  
"What was?"  
  
"You screaming like a little girl because of a vine touching your shoulder." He smirked, taking his time with walking to the Homestead with him, their sweat stains obvious under their arms and on their backs. "That was interesting, indeed."  
  
"Slim it, Minho." He rolled his eyes, picking out his inner ear. "That Griever was loud. I think I lost my hearing."  
  
"Good that." The Korean licked his lips fast and did a 360, getting the itch out of the back of his head. "Where is she?"  
  
"What's with you and her anyways.. You like her?"   
  
"Nah." He was about to take his chest piece off until Thomas gave him a look. "What?"  
  
"Don't lie to me." Thomas's hair was matted to his forehead and he didn't seem to be in the mood for games. "Be up front with me."  
  
Right when he was going to explain with his hands coming onto his hips, Newt went up to them from one of their tables and had a cup of whatever it was in his hands, sipping from it nonchalantly."Hey, mates." He gulped his liquid down, putting his cup up in cheers. "How was the run?"  
  
"It was fine." Minho swept his stare from Thomas's wandering one, shrugging off his curious body language. "Frypan serving up?"  
  
"Yeah, bloody shanks are wondering if it's pig or goat this time." Newt snickered, finishing off his drink.   
  
"Uh.. Have you seen the newbie?" Minho was off his usual self, and he was in angles that Thomas could tell that he wanted to search for her. "She's around when we get back, but now she's not."  
  
"Oh her? She's with the Medjacks. Why?"  
  
"What happened?" His almond shaped eyes didn't widen or get frantic, he was going to be simple.   
  
"She fainted in the Deadheads while working. Gally had to bring her out because the others were thinking she got stung."   
  
"Is she stung then?" Thomas asked for Minho, also wanting to know. "Did she get attacked too?"   
  
"You're shucking oblivious, I said she fainted." Newt snidely spoke. He didn't like repeating himself. "Go check for yourself, you going to come sit with me or not?"   
  
"I'll be there, I have to see if she's fine." Minho got away from them, his pace frantic.   
  
"Minho, Frypan will be closing up soon!" Newt raised his voice for him to hear when he started to go far, him and Thomas finding it unfair that he'd pick the newbie over them. "What's been up with him? The slinthead."   
  
Thomas laughed then got him to go with him to where every one else was seated, putting his arm around his shoulders. "Our dear princess found his twin."  
  
"I reckon this isn't going to be good." Newt flatly said, tossing the empty cup from his left hand to his right.   
  
  
  
  
She was caught trying to put her tray on the other bed that wasn't close, her arm's stretching all the way and the tray beginning to make her hand shake with exertion. It was going to fall if no one helped, but she did her best. She couldn't reach, damn her short arms. She didn't hear the door open and Minho came in to see this, his chuckle coming out to get the tray for her. He put it on the bed, having her watch him made him fumble with words to say.   
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"The medicine worked wonders." She innocently picked up the blanket and tugged it to be closer to her chest. Her overalls were still on and he thought it was cute. "You didn't take a shower yet.."  
  
"Yeah, I came as soon as I got it out of Newt."  
  
"Newt knows?"   
  
He raised an eyebrow at her like she was crazy. The Glade already knows what happens with whatever goes on, on the inside of the walls. "He does."  
  
"Wow."   
  
Balancing himself on the edge of the bed since it was a single bed, he grasped her face in his hands, their eye contact connecting.   
  
"I'm not dead, ya know." She giggled, her eyes squinting while her smile radiated to him.   
  
"I know, shuck-face." He joked with her, his smile being bigger than hers in their moments like these. "I smell bad. I didn't eat either."  
  
"Then go get some dinner and catch a shower. I'm on bed rest for tonight."  
  
Varying if he should sneak in the night to her or put in a word to Alby and the Medjacks to let her sleep with him on his hammock, he bit on his bottom lip. "I got this, babe. Don't worry." 

 

* * *

  

Her body laid on his body completely, her weight pleasant and calming to Minho, and his hips were pressed on by hers, their chests touching. His face was in hers late in the night, kissing and thrashing their tongues like they had done in the morning, getting stress off their minds by being close. He showered and ate, catching Alby to let him know that it would be better to have him keep an eye on her during the night in case she has a second headache. It didn't occur to give off the relationship vibe but Alby was going to say no. He had come up with the fact that Alby wouldn't have to let Clint and Jeff complain about advisory of the Greenbean, if he let Minho take charge, giving in and giving him access to the Med jack hut. He gave him a warning if he was going to have complaints of harassment as a side note on the behalf of her, not knowing that they'd be naughty that night by making out fervently on a creaky bed frame and old mattress. 

It was better than being on a hammock that gave them motion sickness and relying off of the danger of it breaking. 

Grinning through the hot kisses, Minho's pajamas brushing and rubbing on hers. She had changed into proper patient clothes and out of her overalls, the bed moving with their movements if they decided to turn and switch positions of who's on who. He was currently holding himself by his hands on both sides of her head, insinuating his dominance. His esteem had went through the roof when they hit it off in kissing and got comfortable with each other, and it purchased hormones to rocket in his lower half.  
  
She couldn't handle it when he got like that, and she'd push a little on his chest, watching him get flustered and have to relax for a couple of minutes. He handled the pillows behind her neck to not hurt it, his hands refusing to roam her body unless there was permission. He groaned hoarsely and stopped their long lip-lock, his head buried into her neck. "I can't."  
  
She ran her nails on his back, sensing his shudder and arch of his back to make her lose her breath. "Ahh.."  
  
"I can't." He repeated, his expression needy and crestfallen.   
  
"I know." She panted then skimmed up his triceps, placing a sloppy kiss on his jaw to get him riled up.   
  
"Ugh.." He lost dominance fairly in time with her ways of seducing him, his ears turning red. "Don't.."  
  
"I want to be a Runner." She kissed the red tips of his ears and breathed into them, craving him giving in to her words.   
  
"Baby." He moaned, jerking his head from the kisses and becoming fragile in his desires. "I can't do that."  
  
"Yes you can." She nibbled on his earlobe, bringing it into her mouth to bite fully.   
  
It was his weakness. It spilled out, the words she needed to hear. "You'll be a Runner, shuck! D-Don't do that!"


	6. Time to learn the ropes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho teaches the reader about the Glade that wasn't fully explained, and gets started on training her. Angst ensues in moments, making their fondness evolve to love and hatred in others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been focused on not turning this into a smutty fanfiction because my eyes have been targeting on some other fanfictions that I'm into. Damn them. xD I'm not experienced with writing third person sexy things, so I don't think it'd be possible in the future. I wish I'd have the courage to let Minho be dominant as shit, but yeah. I think love suits him more. I may give this story a few more chapters if anything else comes to mind, and I'm adoring the fact that I'm being consistent with this! Please do keep tuning in for these plots and such. I hope you all realize I put effort and thought into the dialogue, then to how much I write to delve into emotions and actions. I want this to be as realistic as possible for the readers! I apologize henceforth for any spell check errors or repetitive use of vocabulary, I have this OCD about being too repetitive or messing up a word. I apologize about this mini hiatus, I was busy with paperwork and schooling.

Minho arranged a quick talk with Alby when it was ready to prepare getting ready for Running, and they met up in the Map-Making building, his arms woven together. He was still in his pajamas and so was Alby, and even though it seemed cliche, it was unfortunate of the situation. Now that he agreed to make her a Runner, he ran it through with his leader for an indefinite yes. "Alby, I know you don't like being dragged into these kinds of things, but I've had a change of heart."  
  
"You're going to cut your hair?"   
  
"What?" He blinked at him incredulously, dropping his persona. "No, what I meant by change of heart was that I think she should be a Runner."  
  
"She told me you declined. I decided to stick up for you and say I'd think about it."  
  
"You also said when she got us out of the Maze that the Council decides on job opportunities, such as making her a Track-Hoe when she first got here." He pointed out, his shoulders stoic. In between them was the Map that they had been working on for 3 years long, a little more, if he was mistaken. It's become hard to calculate when you're cooped up with duties. "Will you take this to the Council or declare it a personal decision, breaking the coordinate rules?"  
  
Alby's dark orbs gazed at him then rested his hands on the edges of the table. "What are you proposing?"  
  
"You didn't bring up a Gathering for the Maze incident. Why." He ignored his question strictly, wanting to see what he's getting at. "Is she getting punished on the side by giving her the job with Gally? There was no Council or Gathering for that either."  
  
"I'm not exactly sure why I didn't, but Minho.." Shaking his head, he loathed this. He was seeing that Alby was trying to justify one thing with another thing. Which isn't right, and he realized it now. "I get it."  
  
"Do you? She fainted." He said softly, his eyes pooling with dread. "What if she got ill. You know that she is not as strong as us. She might've broken a major rule, which was to not go into the Maze.. The jobs that are given to her isn't suitable. You've told me from the beginning that you want things fair. That job with Gally needs to stop." He directed this into a conversation that wouldn't be bitter on both parts. "Alby, shuck.."  
  
"Minho." Alby stopped him. He was going to recede into his selfishness, and mold equal power. "Slim it."  
  
He shut his mouth obediently, his hand reaching to massage the back of his neck. He waited for an answer but they stood there for what seemed like forever until Alby walked to his side. He had a bad feeling that he'd be cold and ruthless, but he knew him better than that.   
  
"I won't arrange a Council or Gathering for either of those events."  
  
A drop in his heart was evident, his throat swelling up.   
  
"She'll be a Runner. Permanently. I don't want to hear no complaining, no tears, no fighting, no nothing, man." Alby put his hand out for a hand shake. "I know you like her. She'll survive if you teach her how, she'll listen to you. I want peace in the Glade, not war."  
  
Minho couldn't express how proud he was of his friend, and he took his hand willingly, slapping their hands together and using their familiar style of pulling each other close to pat on their backs. "Alby, I'll repay you somehow."  
  
"Repay me by keeping her tamed." He commented snarkily, his grin widening on his face. "Try and cool it with the googly eyes in the Homestead too, the boys are becoming crazy from seeing it."  
  
He laughed and released their hands, his head lifting sharply in the Homestead's direction, at the wall. "Googly eyes? They can go shuck themselves. They're just jealous."  
  
"You and your pompous attitude, shank, needs to go." Alby chuckled, walking to the door to let him out. "Make sure she gets the right equipment and tools. Teach her everything."   
  
"Alright, boss."

 

* * *

 

Tracking his steps to head into the Medjack hut, he was self conscious of the hickey she had made on the junction between his neck and shoulder, checking it out with a mirror in hand. He bit his lip as he saw his red blood cells raised to the surface of his tan skin, and he grimaced. He liked the fact it wasn't in his nature to be this out right with stunts like these.. It's that he doesn't want every one else to boast about him being the luckiest shuck-face in the whole Glade to get a girl to do that to him. He remembered how she touched him and raked her nails on his back, checking it too. It was 5 faint lines coursing down his back muscles, making him swallow hard. If she did it to his chest, he wouldn't know what to do. She was like a cat.

He moved the mirror and it set his sights on her in bed, splayed out in the blankets and the single pillow that belonged to every bed in the facility. She seemed at peace, like nothing would hurt her or startle her. He slid the mirror back on to Jeff's research desk, undoing his shirt button by button. 

The weather showed that it was going to be a slightly humid morning, and he didn't want to sweat until he got into his Runner outfit. His knees dipped on the mattress, crawling on top of her slowly and shuffling out of his pajama top to place it on the floor. He didn't care if it got dust or anything, he'd wash it.

Exhaling then lowering, he used his strength wisely to not put all of his body weight on her, his legs straightening to be in between hers. She didn't stir, so it gave him a chance to bend down and kiss her cooled collarbone, and all the way up to her ear, breathing into it the way she did to tease him last night. 

She wiggled her nose and her shoulders rose, as if she was cringing from what he did. Accidentally chuckling into her ear, his teeth captured her earlobe and he tugged, eyes closed with concentration. She moaned with tiredness in her voice, then raised her hand that wasn't tangled in the pillow case to cup the back of his head, stroking his hair. "Min..Ho.."  
  
"Shuck-face, it's time to wake up." He mumbled, his hips aligned to press down on her waist. "Do I have to be all over you to get you fully awake?"  
  
"I wouldn't mind." Her smug grin flitted to her lips and she got her legs to go high, her knees folding to bring him closer, heels on his ass. 

He didn't expect that, his breath catching and he had to push himself up, mono lids lowering to see hers peeping at him, taking her time with it. "You intended for me to do that, didn't you?"  
  
"Yeah." She giggled innocently, both of her hands coming to caress his cheekbones. "You're handsome without a shirt."  
  
"I know, thank you." He smirked, taking pride in his figure. "Question though, Greenie."   
  
"Mm?"  
  
"What are we?"  
  
"We? As in us?"  
  
"Don't play dumb, shank."  
  
"Minho.."  
  
"I want to know."  
  
"I think we're.. Friends.. With benefits?"  
  
"That's not acceptable, Greenbean."  
  
"It isn't?"  
  
Their dialogue cut off short, their eyes boring into each other's intensely. Their inner questions aren't being answered and they didn't know what to call themselves. "I mean.. You're my best friend."  
  
"You are, to me, too."  
  
"But we also like each other, Minho." She saw him glance at the pillow instead of keeping their eyes together. "What?.. You want to be more?"  
  
"I think. I like you a lot." Minho seemed lost; his arms flexing, shrugging his shoulders from above. "I feel like it'd be right if we didn't hide it."

"You've been the most affectionate person I know, and I know for shucking sure that you don't do this with any one else. That's what I like the most about you." She shyly admitted and brushed at his pointed side burns. "If you want to be my partner partner, we could." 

"Alby is strict on us about being.. "Googly" with our stuff."  
  
"Googly."  
  
"Googly."  
  
"Why did he use that word? That's funny." She laughed and covered her mouth, her eyes closing in the fact that that word did indeed sound funny.   
  
"I'm affectionate, though? I'm just doing what I think I should do when I'm with you." He awkwardly licked his lips and wanted to bite his tongue. He's in too deep. Was he ready for this? Was  _she_ ready for this? 

"You are, baby." She leaned up the best she could muster, kissing his chin then his nose. "I'm awake, your mission is complete."  
  
"Good that." He agreed and chuckled, the kisses reminding him of how he was fond of her little things here and there during their privacy. "Good news.. You're a Runner. An official Runner.. Because of you manipulating me, shucking shuck-face."  
  
"Seriously?"  
  
"Seriously."  
  
She laughed hard in celebration then squeaked, his hands quickly getting to her sides to tickle her in revenge. His vengeance was sweet because he got to kiss her to quiet her loud hoots. "No t-tickling!"  
  
"You deserve it!" He said over her volume, switching their positions for her to sit on his lap, holding her close to his bare chest. 

Hitting his arm gently, she was overwhelmed with happiness, the new job making her bouncy in energy. "Does that mean I get a Runner outfit," She saw him quit tickling her to nod and sensed his hands squeezing her thigh. "Would it be in my size?"  
  
"I'll have to check or see if we can tailor one. Because of you having.. Boobs-"  
  
"You said boobs. I can't."  
  
"Slim it." He narrowed his eyes and she could see his cheeks darken in color, clearing his throat then decides to squeeze her thigh hard. "You always do that."  
  
She winced then grinned in triumph, kissing the heated section of his face tremendously. "You're adorable, I get what you mean." 

 

Supplies reigned in, which meant that they had fresh cases of shaving cream, but no razors. They made makeshift ones with sharpened metal, being close enough to get a clean shave without nicking the skin. Living there for years had to be hard, where their youth was stolen from them yet it blossomed onward, their facial hair growing and they had to have certain necessities. It was not as hard as time flew by, Minho's height had sky rocketed at least a year later of arriving in the Glade. She couldn't imagine him being younger or smaller, it made her cringe. Remaining shirtless, he got her to hold the mirror he had previously, having it's face be straight at him to see what he's doing. "Thanks a load.. It's not easy to shave and hold the mirror at the same time."  
  
"Not a problem." She froze her hand to not shake, her eyes shifting around to not look on. 

"You can watch me." His chin dropped to get the inner corner under his bottom lip, his face funny. "I don't mind." 

She bit her tongue to not poke fun at his expressions, tilting her head to the side in thought. "Do you do this every day?"

"Not every day." His voice was quiet and he seemed to be relaxed, chit chat revolving around something guys do is pretty normal. Though, she wasn't okay with talking about her necessities since it seemed like too much information to take in. Girls are shucking complicated. 

"Ahh." His hand would be put on hers for her to keep the mirror upwards or downwards, being guided for his spots he needed to catch, the scraping of the metal giving her the goosebumps along her forearms. He was delving into this, swiping his hand-crafted razor on a random rag, they were still in the Medjack hut, after this they'd go to the Runner headquarters. "Those chest things.. I'm scared that it'll suffocate me when I run."  
  
"Highly unlikely." He rolled his eyes, evident that she was exaggerating. 

"Will mine look like yours?"   
  
"Nah." The Korean male finished shaving then used the clean side of the rag to get the excessive substance off, checking with a blink of his eyes. "I'm good, you don't need to hold the mirror anymore." He moved away from her to fix the bed, adjusting the sheets and planting the pillows to their rightful owners. "Hand me my shirt?"  
  
She tossed the mirror onto a nearby medical bed then crouched for his shirt, grimacing at it. "It's been on the floor?"  
  
"I wanted to wake you up." He was handed his shirt, getting his head and arms through the holes. "I can't look like I was stripping when we leave."  
  
"I like when you strip."   
  
"Greenbean," He warned, going up to her to peck her forehead. "You're going to be the death of me with how you talk to me like that. Let's go."

 

Sneaking to the Headquarters together wasn't as smooth as they thought it'd be, Gally was out and at his job earlier than usual, either spying on them or for real doing work. He looked rather pissed, if she didn't want to say he was angry in a light sense. Jealousy is a pile of klunk, ain't it? Minho was gliding his hands over the multiple boxes in the far corner of the room, staring at the lettering to find the right one that belonged to chest pieces that would buckle up and have a size for her. "Change into one of the Runner shirts that go under these."  
  
She didn't have to go and do a find and seek, it was right there, on a rack. She lingered on his back that was facing her then tore the top that she had off, putting any of the selection that was shown to her on her body. She didn't want him to see.. Yet. 

He didn't need to question why she was being like that. "I wouldn't turn around, shank."  
  
She blushed then was ordered to put on pants too, he was pretty thorough with searching for a chest piece. "Maybe I don't need the chest piece?"  
  
"It's required."

 

He was standing up close to her body, his arms around her to measure her by logic, since he's done the other Runners for sizing. He got the piece to weave around her chest and the tops of her shoulders, it was secure, keeping her intact like she'd fall apart if she undid the straps. He beamed at his work of her, even to her boots that are made specifically for Running. This.. shoe ware she owned or ever worn, hopping on her heels, felt astoundingly good. 

Minho was uncertain, looking her frame over. "You should wear a sports bra."  
  
"E-Excuse me?" She was startled by his sudden suggestion.  
  
"Here, there was a supply box for you, from when you first arrived."  
  
A minute passed, and she looked livid. He was genuinely frightened by her scowl and he put out his hand to tame the beast. "Woah.. What did I-?"  
  
"I had my own supply box, and you didn't shucking tell me? Slinthead!" She snapped, her arms crossing and her eyebrows coming together to send him a signal of her distress. "Why didn't you say anything?"  
  
"I thought it wasn't important." Gulping, he backed up to get her medium-sized box, plopping it on to the table next to him, getting the crow bar to pry open its sides. "Slim it, Greenie."  
  
"I won't, you made me go through a whole lot of... Stuff."   
  
"I did?"  
  
"By not telling me about the box." She projected.   
  
"How?"   
  
"Stop asking questions like you're a parrot!" She came to him to peer into the box.   
  
"Why are you yelling at me, shank!" He practically had to shriek in response to her approach, stupefied. "What _stuff_ are you talking about?"  
  
"It's a thing a girl gets once a month." She had to grind her teeth to not explain this kind of thing to him and scrambled to find the object she needed. "Aha!" She pulled out the discreet tin box with a bold **P**. " _This_ , is what I needed, you shank."  
  
"A box full of shucking stuff you refuse to explain to me about." He reasoned with her, wanting her to shut up. "If it makes you feel better, I feel guilty!"  
  
She closed her mouth to stare at him with an exhausted look, using the tin box to punch him in the arm. His sign of pain made her huff at him.   
  
"What's in it?" He squinted, soothing the area she hit. "Is it pills? Or.. candy?"  
  
"Candy? You boys are clueless."  
  
"Well I'm sorry that I'm a guy who's never liked a girl or been around one until you came to the Glade." He grumbled, nostrils flaring in irritation when he targeted his gaze to the rack of clothes. "Shuck."  
  
She settled the tin in her supply box then took hold of his shirt, bringing him to her. "It's not important, sorry." She kissed his cheek in apology, seeing him be frustrated out of being less knowledgeable on the subject of periods made her realize she had to teach him a few things. Lovely. He made a grunt then saw her face.   
  
"You're abusive." He concluded.  
  
"I'm abusive?"   
  
"You shouted at me and punched me in the arm." He inclined his head at her supplies in a joking manner. "Abusive girlfriend, I tell you. Bunch of klunk got you all hyped up."  
  
"Cute." She pinched his cheek mockingly, watching his lips form in a thin line as she got his skin in her index finger and thumb. He pushed it away and rambled about her being stupid, smirking at him standing about to get on his signature Runner equipment. His chest piece was a mahogany color compared to hers, hers was black with a dark gray thread etched into the sewing patterns. The button up shirt under being a cloudy white, which contrasted with her pants. He wore a similar button up, it was a pale indigo, and his pants were a shade glazed if it remained indigo too. His belt was put in the loops, the clank of the buckle ringing on the four walls surrounding them. 

Hers and His boots, eh? It was like a couple walking around a mall with matching clothes to be a type of goal. She smiled bashfully at it, her eyes moving from his outfit to hers. "We look good."  
  
"It's not about fashion." He told her, grabbing his wrist links from a shelf to wrap it on his body part that it's accordingly labeled for. She guessed that it helped him climb when lifting himself over cliffs or such. Or kept his wrists stiff with actions in the Maze. "It's about being efficient in survival, our clothes are breathable and able to let us run in stealth."  
  
"Will I get those wrist bands?"  
  
"If you want."  
  
"Awesome."  
  
"Don't take this as a game." He exasperated, taking another set of links to prepare her.   
  
"I'm not!" She insisted, putting her wrists out for him to do his task. His many pockets stood out, wondering if that's where he holds weapons. "Do we get weapons?"  
  
"No, we don't."   
  
"Wait. What-"  
  
"You thought.. You thought we have actual weapons? We can make razors and we have the Poles, but that's it. We don't have knives or guns or anything." He picked up stray leather straps, getting the stiff fabric around her hands properly like his own. It should help her lift herself up on high places. "There."  
  
"Poles? As in.. You capitalize the word poles to Poles?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Was that what you.. Used against Ben to put him in the Glade?"  
  
Silence fell on them and he tried to find words to say. She wanted to know a few more things, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. "Can you tell me some of the other jobs?"  
  
"The one you had with farming is called Track-Hoe."  
  
"That sounds plain wrong."  
  
"Don't get it twisted." He chortled, politely popping her collar for her. "There is plenty of chores around here. You saw the Sloppers, right?"  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Ugh." His face diminished and his friskiness was replaced with disgust. "It's cleaning up toilets and kitchens and stuff. It's the worst out of all of'em." 

"Gross.."  
  
"We got Baggers who collect the dead bodies- Don't question it. We got the Bloodhouse, where we chop up the animals to eat'em." Her lips pouted at his words of eating the animals she plays with usually in their pens. The poor piggies and cows..   
  
"You understand what those Grievers can do, right? Has Newt told you about it?"  
  
"No, he doesn't talk much about himself. What do they do?"  
  
He was aside in his thoughts, holding his left arm with his right hand. "They have stingers that cause us to get stung. We call it The Changing, and it's something I hope you never go through or see on the Gladers."  
  
"Is it that horrifying that you can't say what it does?"  
  
"No." He quipped, his orbs stern with her. "We are given a syringe filled with a serum every month along with a new Greenie and it's given wisely if someone get's stung by a Griever. The Maze is mostly dangerous at night, so there isn't too much to be worried about."  
  
"Have you ever thought about if the doors don't close?"  
  
"Have you ever thought about not being pessimistic?" He wryly smiled at her and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You ask the shucking questions to some one else like that and you'll get hit, for sure."

"Sorry," She whispered. She should've known it wasn't right to mention the obvious fright every one would have if things were in chaos.  
  
"We have the Medjacks, you've seen it already. Keepers, which is Alby and Newt became second of command not too long ago, then us, the Runners," He nodded to his own words, continuing his speech. "That's pretty much it."   
  
She was puzzled, she didn't understand how there were terms for everything and it all sounded strange in her mind.  _Baggers? Sloppers?_ Ew. 

He moves to her to test her straps and then gets her to spread her arms out like she's being examined, his rough skin on hers making her shiver. "Can you lift anything? As in pounds?" He felt whatever muscle she had above her elbow, pushing and pressing.  
  
"Uhh.. I think so."

"You can't, figured." He answered for her, his lips tucked in to think. "Mm.. You'll be training hard after this course of Running."

"Yes, sir." She gave a lazy salute in tribute to his dedication. 

Laughing in delight to her nickname for him, he settled for a sensitive subject. "...Try not to die, okay?"  
  
It took her a moment to absorb that like a sponge, that danger will be a daily occurrence in her life from then on. She'd be with him every step of the way, and with Thomas, having their backs like they have hers. They have a fine and equal amount of trust, and she needed to be courageous. Her eyes didn't match her courage, staring up at him in sorrow. "What if I do die."

Her voice cracked, not wanting to think about death at so early in life. Her hands got clammy and she dug her fingernails in her palms. He thought about it, then exhaled through his nose slowly, not wanting to be blunt for this answer. "I'd die with you. That won't happen."

Did she hear him right? Did he really say that? He'd die with her? Like as in.. He's with her until the end? She refused to choke up, touching his shaved cheek admiringly. He always seemed to have the right things to say when she felt lost. He was like a life saver. 

Thomas's sluggish body appeared from the door opening in the distance, seeing them set up to leave. "Damn, I'm late again?"

"No, you're fine, you ugly shank. We've got ten minutes until the doors open." He turned in Thomas's direction, her hand having retracted to her side to avoid conflict on their relationship. 

 

Thomas's outfit was full coverage, his chest piece ranging far on his pectoral muscles and looped on his back. It gave him a straight posture, and the wraps on his wrists were like fore arm warmers. Opposite of leg warmers, nearly. His hair wasn't in good shape from having woken up not too long ago, his form being wilted. He must wear himself out like Minho does. Thomas yawned, tying his shoes and leaning down to so, his hands skilled. She didn't know what to say, staying quiet and obedient until someone could say something. Then she said, "We have no weapons.. Do we.. Run? I know we're Runners and all-"  
  
"We do self-defense too." Thomas said instantaneously, not breaking his contact with his shoe laces.   
  
"Against Grievers? You must be kidding."  
  
That made him stop to question her with his eyes. "It's just what we know." 

"That isn't enough, though.. The stingers and the legs.. We wouldn't be able to survive that."  
  
Thomas couldn't believe she was saying that; as if she was some genius. Gosh. He did his regime of whirring his shoulders back, then swung his legs, knees sore. He didn't answer her, avoiding talking to her for her ways of thinking she's smarter. "Okay." They knew self-defense wouldn't get them anywhere. Why was she a Runner? It didn't make sense. She'd be in the way instead of helping.  
  
Minho was ignoring the duo, and he was sitting on the table, his head back to rest his eyes.   
  
"Is she a trainee?" He wanted confirmation, piqued in interest. He saw the boy perk up to nod then got up from the ground, having knelt. "Who's going to do most of the guiding?"

"You can teach her while I lead. The usual." He ordered; Thomas mouthing the words after him like he knew the whole spiel before.

Minho gestured to the female's hair. "Tie it up, it'll get in your face. Time to learn the ropes."

 

* * *

 

Their packs consisted of meat sticks for protein, water bottles and other items for their journey, it didn't look like meals like she would get in intervals from working on the fields. She'd surely lose more weight doing Running than harvesting. Sheesh. The sun had risen up in time and the three of them could hear the doors open with loud and violent cranks of gears in the distance, making the hairs on her body stand up in attention. She wasn't going to leave until Minho said they would, and she could see the reason why they carry very little of food and water. They make it last or they can drop it and run for easier access to stealth if they get caught by a monster. 

"Alright, let's go." Minho filed them out and they didn't walk, they were steadily sprinting, and she could feel her chest piece keeping her together. This came in handy. 

They reached the entrance in a matter of a couple of minutes and she hesitated when they were up ahead of her, then shrugged off her emotions to be risky, following them without looking behind her. It wasn't too long until she knew they were a bit far from the Maze, her memory wasn't good, but Minho's seemed to be perfecting each and every turn they make, watching him monitor their strides constantly. 

As if he was recording everything through his vision. "Grievers are never around during the day?"  
  
"They could be." Thomas responded, his pants shifting in his movements. "Alby got stung by one."

"He did?" She gasped and thought  _No wonder why he's like that._

"If you remember what we told you, we've stayed out in the Maze at night before. That was that night." Minho recalled, then stopped them all with a hand, putting a finger to his lips and looking around the vines suspiciously. "I heard something."  
  
Thomas searched for the sound, and she was registering the information still. That must've hurt Alby a ton. She caught sight of scrapes on the walls, they were running downwards, as if a Griever fell in the spot they were standing in. This must've been where she heard the Griever struggling while climbing towards them and they were hiding. Which must mean they were nearing the time they were in that small cubby in the wall. 

She felt it and focused on the texture of the wall, it really was having a difficult time with coming after them. She didn't know if it was an actual monster, or technology formed by the Creators. No one told her about that yet. 

"Greenbean, what are you looking at?" Thomas came up next to her and saw it too, tilting his head for a better angle.  
  
"This is where the Griever got stuck and was coming at us. You still didn't tell us where you were on the vines, either." She looked up at him and speculated where he would've went. 

"I wanted it to follow me so I brought it back to where I killed the other Griever. It got smashed like the last one."  
  
Minho jumped along with the rest as a harsh moan sliced through the air, making her clasp her hands on Thomas's wrist, terrified. "Shuck, are they close?"  
  
Thomas gaped down at her hold on his wrist and then looked to Minho, who was busy feeling the walls for vibrations. "Minho?"  
  
"Nah, they're not. But I think one of them is just pacing the corridors for fun." He gritted out, he hated being jumpy out of nowhere. "We're fine."

Thomas's hand was still in her hold and her fingers only became harder on him. "We're okay, you don't have to keep doing that." He saw her let go awkwardly then move to walk up and away from him, raising an eyebrow. She definitely wasn't cut out for this. Or anything at all. 

 

Time passed and there was moments where Thomas would talk with her patient boyfriend, and she felt that it'd be okay to stray off the path to check out the Maze herself. It couldn't be that bad. Even though there was  _plenty_ of warnings to not do it. She wanted to see, see how bad it could get, albeit Minho being her protection and her consciousness. She lazily swung her legs to walk, taking a right turn and jolting in revulsion to the scene in front of her. It was a Griever-   
  
It was dead though.. Or looked like it. It was mashed in bits from a Maze wall having closed on it. Was this what Thomas mentioned? Her boots had little clacks on the ground, trembling in fear. She wasn't sure how to react, but she stopped to clamber around, looking for her flash light that is provided for darker parts of the Maze. She clicked it on after she almost dropped it twice, zeroing in on the monster for a clearer scene. 

It didn't move..

Or was it faking it?

She hesitated like she did before she entered the Maze, yet went against her instincts, her breath snatched from her. She hadn't been this close to a Griever, and she wasn't thrilled about it. It was laying there, and she was intuitive to learn. "How the shuck.." 

A metallic whine and a swivel of the Griever's eye peered at her, it's red circular opening nearly making her forehead hurt by how bright it was. She shouted and dropped her flashlight, the glass breaking on it's top and her whole figure was shook. It was staring right at her. Her orbs were blown with horror. It was still alive. The pincers that belonged to it were tucked in the hold of the wall that had it immobilized, so all it could do was watch her. 

She heard scuffling footsteps and she was just turning to go to them, instead meeting one of their chest's, shouting again and flailing at whoever tried to calm her down. Her face was scrunched tight, refusing to open her eyes to who it was. Hands came on her face and she sobbed, the strength of it having her shoulders hunch down. "Shuck-!" 

Minho's shaken voice came to her senses, taking the hits to his chest and ribs with slight concern. This was normal for her to be that frightened and he could tell she was rocked to the fact she didn't expect to be at the cliff of fate. He saw her kneel down and shield her face, her arms over her legs that bent tightly. 

Instead of consoling her, he knew she could get it together and he ran up to the Griever's leering eye, kicking it with the heel of his foot with a crunch. The dwindling groan of the Griever powered down, the body slumped and out of enough force to be more scary. He hopped three times away from the thing to make sure it didn't snatch him, and crouched to her, a hand settling on her back. 

"You don't get out of my sight." Was all he said, lips terse with her actions. "Get up."

She sucked it up and wiped her wet eyelashes with her index finger. "'kay."

He didn't have time to be her knight in shining armor. This was their living situation and they had no choice but to be strong all the time. No time for tears when they're in the Maze. He gave her a few pats on her spine, then her lower back, massaging there for her to get it over with. They both stand and he held her head in both of his hands, bringing it to his lips. He kissed it chastely, letting it linger. "You got this."

She weakly allowed him to kiss her head, not feeling anger or rage for his ways of being tough, she understood wholeheartedly why he couldn't be sweet. 

"We didn't get anything to map down.. It's the same as yesterday." He informed her, for their map-making was unsuccessful. "Thomas thinks he might've found something though. We'll stay a little longer to make sure we didn't miss anything. Let's go."

She followed him, her cheeks flustered from her sudden breakage of tears, and she breathed heavily, shaking her head sharply. She got this, like he said. She didn't need to cry, she was going to be okay. It wasn't a good idea to meddle with a half-dead Griever, there was no need to tell her off. He waited at certain minutes for her to catch up, since Thomas said he'd be in a certain section of the Maze to confirm his part of the deal. 

He searched the certain numbers and letters that are put together on the walls, memorizing this type of thing came to him naturally. Minho didn't waste a second of guiding her, stopping if they hear something bad or a vine rustling. Better to be careful than careless. They met up in the evening, Thomas coming up with nothing. Nothing confirmed his suspicions. "We're shucked, for sure." Thomas replied, seeing Minho's disappointment. 

"Nah, we're not." He tucked his lips in and glared at the greens next to him, using his hand to lean on the wall. "We can't stop looking for a way out." 

"What about the letters and numbers? Do you think they mean something?"  
  
"Yeah, but I don't know how to figure it out unless we're in the Map-Making room."

"Should we head back and check it out?" 

He paused, then glanced to her. "We're gonna head back and go and piece it altogether, Greenbean." His expression revealed that he wanted her to do something while they vexed the Maze and she agreed, undoing her belt to put it on the next set. "Alright."

 

They ran back to the entrance that was bearing itself for the three Runners, the wisps of grass and dirt greeting them when they ran in, the breezes blowing their hair out of their faces and making their clothes ripple. It was home. Minho told Thomas to go and that he'll meet up with him, twisting to get her hand in his when Thomas's back met them. "I want you to eat when dinner is announced by Frypan.. Be good." He didn't kiss her or stay for too long, his hand giving a reassuring grip. 

Her sweat wasn't as bad as theirs, and she thought it would be best to wait until night to take a shower. She took her time to go to the Homestead, taking her hair out of it's ponytail and shoving the band in her pocket.   
  
A wolf whistle hit her ears and she blinked, unexpected to hear any of the Glader's do it. She saw Newt come up to chuckle at her, biting his lip in satisfaction. "Bloody hell, Greenie. You look good in a Runner uniform."  
  
She laughed lightly and rolled her eyes at him, knowing he didn't like her like that, he was more like a brother. "Yeah, right."  
  
"How was your first day Running?" He walked with her, his strap that goes diagonal across his chest and brown pants making him stick out. "It couldn't have been that hard, eh?"

"If that's what you think, I'll go with it." She smiled at him, her teeth showing. "Have you ever tried it?"

"I'll leave that for you to think about." He reversed it on her and sniffed neutrally, his frail self obvious that he wasn't physically the type for Running. "Supper should be not too long."

"Supper, that's what you call it?"

Being questioned on the way he words things is never one of his daily occurring issues, and he calculated if she had a problem. "What's with you and how I talk?"

She lost her smile and scratched her temple. Oops. "Don't mean to sound rude."

He gave her a testy glint and then indicated where she should go. "Gally has been trying to get a hold of you. See him before Frypan gathers us to eat." 

She grimaced then put her hand on his arm to put it down and get him to look at her. "I don't want to talk to Gally."

"And why not?" He questioned, brown eyes scanning her behavior. "You've been against him since the beginning, I deserve to know why. We all have to get along whether you two have bloody hissy fits or not." He snarkily put it out there that they were both childish. 

"It's not that simple." She suspected it'd be better to not talk about the love triangle going on. "Newt, I just don't want to."

"You're going to, or else Alby will have a word about this."

"Go and tattle on me, I don't care." She breathed out, expressing how done she was. "Why is it this serious?"

"Listen, shank." He didn't need to be intimidating, he was right on this. "We have rules. And rules have to be upheld. You being the girl in the Glade doesn't shucking mean anything." He swore with a hiss, his limp being more noticeable as he came to her. "You two have to make up, and I mean at this moment. Move your bloody ass." 

Realization hit her that he was being serious and not doing this for the hell of it. Paralyzed and skeptical, she said, "Can't I wait until tomorrow?"

"Move!" He impatiently nudged her by her elbow. 

She frowned at him and then bitterly paced up to where he pointed at previously, having him spy on her to have her not go the other way. 

 

The hard working Glader was taking his break from cutting the wood, ax besides him and his hand holding a rag to his forehead that was soaked. He grunted then laid back against the barn's shingles, the rag obscuring his vision from the lowering sun and everything in general. He saw someone run up to him and stop too close for his comfort, though he knew it wasn't one of his other Gladers. "Hey, you woke up."

"A while ago, actually." 

"I wanted to see you this morning to tell you I hope you're okay but you were missing." He didn't remove the cloth and he put his hands on his lap. "Where did you go?"

"You know where I was. Don't play dumb, Gally."

"You became a Runner over night. How fortunate for you." 

She frowned deeply than what she did with Newt and she crossed her arms worriedly. "Why are you acting like you're disappointed?"

"It's nothing. I thought you'd like working this job, shank."

"You told me I sucked and you were such a slinthead for being all haughty with me." She snidely remarked. 

"I apologize for that. Whatever." Sliding the cloth off to dab at his neck, he leaned forward to gaze at her. "You like Minho?"

"Excuse me?" 

"I know why you became a Runner last night." He licked his lips then grinned in his logic. "You're really into him and he reciprocates like a lost puppy. It's obvious. But I'm not mad."

"If you're not mad, you act like you're going to shout from the mountain tops." She was bored of this talk, he liked her also, and there was nothing he could do. She was wrong about opening up her mind to him. "The way you talked to me that day made me lose respect for you, shuck-face."

"Like I care. I liked you. Liked." 

"You done?" She laughed; his words not hurting her at all. So what if he 'liked' her and lost how he felt. There was no reason to stop liking her. "It's not like you'd ever be in my circle anyways."

"What circle? Minho's circle?" He shot right up at her rejected answers and his hands clenched onto the rag. "You never had a circle until you clung onto a Leader. You wanted special treatment, you shank."

"Are you serious?" She vehemently spat, and knew it wasn't the best thing to come. Newt should've known this. "You're out of your shucking mind."

"I'm dead serious." Gally glared. "You should be exposed for what you are. You're a silly little girl who acts like the world is tough on her and will bow to her every will. You won't get what you want, and I see through it. Minho is a pawn, and I would have you in all the right ways if you didn't like him." 

Her blow to his face was intense, the punch being hard but not as hard as Gally could have done to her. His head thrown to the side and covering his jaw, he looked at her in disbelief. Blinking and thinking it through of what he should do instead of lashing out, he tackled her to the ground, her back hitting the hard earth and her yell resounding the Glade. He pinned her hands down and he sat his weight on her lower half, growling at her in anger. 

"You shucking slinthead, get off of me!" She yelled higher as he perched himself on her, her legs flimsy and aiming for any part of him to kick. It was useless but she fought with every ounce of strength. "Gally!" 

"You punched me, I don't think so!"

Newt had watched the whole thing and limped in how you'd call running, shouting on the top of his lungs for them to stop and multiple Gladers focused on the pair fighting. "Gally, stop!" His warns were empty to the broad teenager, his blue eyes resentful of the girl. 

"Gally, get off!" She repeated and lost her voice in a crack, her boots made designs in the soil, trying to buck him off. His form was mimicking a statue, like stone. He didn't budge, his hands on her wrists dangerously close to break a bone. "Ow!" She wailed, her face hidden by turning it to the side. Gally didn't say anything, merely holding her down like this. 

Minho was coming out of the Deadheads with Thomas and saw Newt limping his way up the hill to the barn and followed the trail to see Gally on top of her. "Thomas, get Alby!" He commanded, off to fight Gally. Thomas ran in the opposite direction and called out for who they needed the most, Minho's legs burning with passion to reach for her first. 

"Gally!" Newt screamed, he knew he could do serious harm. 

Minho flew by the British male and flung his hands on Gally's shirt from behind, ripping him off of her and chucking him towards the wood blocks that were so nicely stacked together. _"Hey,_   _shuck-face!"_ The Korean barked, seeing him stumble back and knock over a few of the logs up top to gain balance. "You don't put your hands on a shucking girl!" His veins nearly popped from his neck, hands balled in fists. She curled in a ball when Newt got down to her level, having her shake like a leaf. Everything was surely going to get to her. 

She hadn't been more frightened that day, first the Griever, then Gally. "I-I'm okay.."

Minho spilled out his words like he had thirty cups of coffee, pushing Gally by his chest to back up away from her. "You're **shucking** _crazy!_ " Once he got Gally a few feet away, he made sure he held onto his shoulders, wanting to do much worse to him, but knew he couldn't do anything unless he wanted banishment. 

Newt got her to sit up and he gave a wild look to Gally, never having seen him like this on the other gender. It was plain wrong. "Wait until Alby is done with you!" He sneered at him, tending to her aching wrists, having to undo the straps and fabric that Minho applied that morning. 

 

* * *

 

Newt, Thomas, Minho and her sat during dinner in an infuriated manner, except for her, she was eating even with the feeling in her wrists. Alby was chewing out Gally in a private session and Newt could imagine how it must've been to be penting up anger. "I heard everything Gally said to you, Greenie." Newt spoke up amongst her chewing on some vegetables, and she stared sulkingly at him. 

"You and him aren't the problem, you know." Thomas said, gnawing on some meat. "Minho and you are nothing compared to what just happened."

Minho didn't know how to respond to that, parting up some his sandwich to take smaller bites. "She doesn't know that."

Newt gazed at the sky. "Gally always said he wouldn't hurt a girl. We stand corrected."

"Stop talking about him, please." She pleaded faintly and stopped eating, putting her tray aside. "He didn't punch me, I punched him. I deserve the sentence Alby and Council gives me."

"We're not having a Gathering based on why Gally doesn't have you as a girlfriend because you're mine, the ugly shank deserved it." Minho stabbed his fork into a vegetable and shot a testy look at Thomas going to say something. "Don't say it, Thomas." Thomas held back his words then ran a hand through his hair. 

Newt slapped his palms on his thighs in retort. "They both deserve it, Minho!"

"Slim it, Newt! I know you saw and heard the whole thing but he was ready to break her shucking hands! Look at the bruises! A punch is not as serious! You know as much as we do that he needed a punch since he got there!" Minho pointed his fork at the blonde and he glared a hole into his face. 

Newt took offense to that, tenacious though. "Minho. You're bloody blinded, mate." 

Thomas was quiet, seeing them throw a dispute based off of who deserves what and he sighed, getting up to leave. "I'm going to sleep. See you all tomorrow." 

Minho and Newt stopped to watch him, the Korean biting his bottom lip to hush. She ran her tongue on her top teeth and decided it'd be better to go rest. "Me too." 

Newt was going to object yet thought against it and knew she had to have some alone time due to circumstances. "Minho, go with her. No need to argue with me on this."

 

Minho stripped out of his Runner uniform in unison with her, doing his best to stay liberated and not question if she was alright every second or not. She shucked her wraps off her wrists like it was ears of corn, and put it in a shelf, kicking her boots to go in her slot. "I hope Gally gets banished." She mumbled to him, seeing him shake his head. 

"That's not how to think."

"Newt wanted me to go to see him because he wanted to tell me something. It was mainly about how he could have made me happier than you and that I'm using you for my personal gain." She had devoted herself to be void of emotion, undoing her chest piece with a pull of the buckle. "I don't like him being in the Glade."

"Still." He listened to her talk, yet he stayed level-headed. "We're all put here for a reason. And soon enough we'll find out why."

"This isn't about the Creators, shuck them." She took off the belt that belonged to her pants, standing beside him. "Shuck them. All of'em."

"I wish I could take away your pain, but.. Let's not talk about this for the night."

She mentally noted that she didn't want to get on Minho's bad side, knowing how violent he was with Gally to get him off and away from her. She got on her pajamas in a flash to hug her boyfriend from behind, eyes shut tight. "Thank you for coming to protect me."

The bitter sweet taste came in his mouth. He knew what he did probably was something he never wanted her to see but it was worth it to have her alive. Gally wasn't capable of killing her truly, yet he knew he didn't defend her wholly for the sake of everyone else not needing to know they were together. "You're welcome." He said blankly. 

"Will we sleep together again?"

"Not this time." His words struck her heart. 

"Is this my punishment?"

"No, it's not."

"Then let me sleep next to you." She turned him around by his shoulder and cupped his cheeks, making him look at her. "I want to be at ease."

Serene as if what he said was minimal, he would kill for her. "Fine." He didn't think it would be right to sleep together after a day like this but he hopes this would make her feel better, sacrificing the inevitable. "Go and get in my hammock."

"Not without a kiss first." She stubbornly leaned up and caught his lips in hers, they were velvety soft unlike his hands, and he wrapped her in a firm hold, keeping her in place while they got the kiss to be full of passion. He liked her more than he should.. It was growing day by day. Their kiss split when he pulled back, their noses touching. "I like you so much, Minho." She said into his mouth, her thumbs rubbing his cheekbones and throughout his jet black hair. 

He cut her off with a second kiss, except he created it to be rough, showing how he felt through that. She knew he was the right one. 


	7. The Vault.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Box brings a new Greenie aboard, and the Council gives their solution on what went on between the Reader and Gally. Chaos bubbles to the surface as Thomas, Minho, and the Reader discover something crucial about the exit of the Maze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been going back and forth with ideas day and night and I really wanted to incorporate bits and pieces of the book AND the movie to make it exciting and thriller-ish. I'm having some stressful writers block with time crunching/sequencing everything, but I think everything will work out fine! Enjoy!

A Gathering was put in place of the fight between Gally and her, and she shook erratically, wondering if she'd be banished for this small mistake. She didn't want to punch someone, even if it was Gally, the shank who sat next to her with his tail between his legs. He seemed guilty; by the looks of it, but then she felt that maybe he was only trying to make the Gladers feel bad for his actions. She squirmed a bit on her chair, being placed next to the boy that strangled her on the ground, uncomfortable with the situation immensely. 

She searched through the crowd of boys to see Minho's stony face, knowing he didn't need to show he was going to defend her at all costs of either banishment or punishment. Alby was strictly talking about their guidelines, her ears blocking it out until he got to the important parts. It was useless to listen to him banter that they both were in the wrong and needed to be punished, no wonder they were in these chairs to begin with. "We have brought you all here to make a decision for these two, they had a bad argument according to Newt, who was the witness to the event."

Everyone's eyes averted to look at Newt and then back to Alby. 

"They have put their hands on each other equally, and Newt and I feel that one of their lives were threatened to be hurt more than the average pain." The black male held his hands behind his back respectfully. "Who votes that they both be put in the Slammer?"

She wasn't allowed to talk on her behalf of the incident, and hands shot up in the air, many, and she felt a tinge of regret for what she did.

"Who votes that the one who did the worst damage be put in the Slammer?" Upon that, some of the hands changed their opinion, shooting up just as fast as the first vote. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. A punch, or a tackle? Which would be considered worst?

Thomas arrived to stand next to Minho, bumping shoulders to let him know. Minho merely acknowledged him with the side of his hand touching his arm to stop him from talking, not wanting to interrupt the voting. Hers and Minho's glances met various times throughout the interaction of Council to Keepers, Alby jumbling everything together with Newt. 

Gally's words spoke up, disobeying the rule to not say anything against their word. "I think Thomas  _and_ her are spies! It must be why they survived a second night, and that's not what this Gathering should be about, Alby!" Every one became shocked, that he'd talk to Alby like that, or try to boss him around. What did he mean by what he said? That there should've been a second Gathering?

"Gally." Alby warned and narrowed his eyes. "Slim it, or else the punishment will be twice fold."

"No!" He stood up and Newt came to him, placing a hand on his chest stubbornly to keep him from walking to Gally. 

"Gally!" The black Glader snapped. 

"You let that slide by, huh?"

She watched the tension and gripped her seat on either sides of her thighs, not daring to look up. 

"I swear they are not who they say are!"

Thomas's eyebrows knit together. He couldn't believe Gally was hung up on that. 

"You don't have the right to talk back to me while the Council is making their decision!" Alby ignored his words, not breaking his facade of hushing the topic. "Sit down!"

Gally's foot struck his chair that we was sitting on, having it fly and smash against the wall, it's negative effect on the Gladers evident. Their eyes followed him on him leaving during the middle of the Gathering and Alby didn't stop him, nor Newt. They must have a way of getting him to be punished when he isn't crazed about being right. Alby stared at her when she was figuring out what to do, and he sighed, stressed out. "Get up, Greenie. Go and work." 

She didn't spend her time dawdling, she got right to it, Minho and Thomas exiting through the back to monitor her. She walked to the Running Headquarters, her head twisting and turning to see if Gally would be there, instead she saw Thomas and Minho, their smiles meaning they knew what they would do if Gally was to show up. 

 

* * *

 

Their boots squeaked and thumped on the grainy floors of the Maze, Minho none too happy about the arrangements made for the Gathering and how Gally up and left. It was wrong, rude, and outright unfair to her as it is, since their punishment is postponed until someone can go get him from his hiding. "Slinthead thinks it's cute to wuss out." He snarkily sniffs, stalking up the corridor. "I bet I could clock him out in one hit."

"Minho, slim it, man." Thomas tried to follow in haste with her, their features glimmering with impulse. 

She was engrossed in his emotions, knowing it was impossible to hold back his pride. "He'd hit the ground faster than he can say  _shank!_ " He rambled on, cursing the skies. "Shucking hell!" 

Thomas picked at his inner ear at how he rose in volume, and she winced, visibly taken aback. "I.. Come on, Minho." 

He cracked his knuckles nonchalantly, almond shaped orbs fixated on getting to Section 8. "She made me proud by popping him in his big mouth. Always has something to say-" Seething with his fury, he took a heavy breath from his mouth, pushing it right back out with a puff. "I'll try and slim it, I'm fine."

"Good that." She agreed in a tiny tone, earning herself a smirk from her boyfriend over his shoulder. She couldn't help but mimic it. They both thought the same on this, which is awesome.

Then the headache came back.

Gasping out of a familiar throb in her head, she desperately took hold of a vine to her left, eyes rolling back in her sockets. It had hit her too fast; the feeling was heightening and Thomas swiveled to see her drop to her knees with a rough scrap. Her head swam with pain, a memory striking her in a whirlwind. Releasing the vine and collapsing, her head slammed first, hands barely making her fall cushioned. It exploded with a fiery pound, and she didn't make a sound, her skull feeling as if someone was having it in a vice. 

Then.. The memory played like a record, yet felt brainwashed into thinking it was your true memory.

 

* * *

_White. White was all she could see. White all over. It's like her body ascended into heaven, except this heaven was a hell._

_She was at least 16, her robotic set of hands typing on a see through keyboard panel. She was assigned by her group to keep an eye on the Maze. She saw the rounds of boys working their asses off and she couldn't tell if she felt bad for them. To say the best out of this, they weren't out there with the Flare. Some were immune, some weren't, and soon they'll know the truth about the real world._

_She tilted her head and gazed at her screen with vague interest. She had been watching them since their first year and they already had minimal issues here and there. A few banishments, a boy got stung and they learned the effects of it's poison. She was checking up on a few boys chopping wood with the Beetle Blades, using their eyes as her own._

_They were young. Small. Innocent. And she didn't have the heart to stop what she was doing. This was her life, now. There was no going back. She barely remembered Mommy or Daddy at this rate. They were nothing compared to what WICKED has done for her. WICKED is good._

_"Hey.." A boyish voice popped up from behind her and she didn't look, her eyes raising to stare at a camera angle that was directed in the Griever's entrance and exit to prowl the Maze's insides. "We should go over what she told us last week."_

_"In a minute." Her girlish attitude was stark. She'd never know what it sounded like in her future. Nor to be put in the Maze that she helped design with other Creators. Her skin glowed in the lights that kept her working space lively, going to him after putting her engine to sleep. She saw his youthful and sheepish grin, Thomas was all the likely to be someone she thought of as her type. But he liked Teresa._

_Teresa was like a peeping tom, her magnificent icy blue eyes peering at her from beside his mildly bulging arms in his white shirt. "What's with the long face? Not happy to see me?"_

_Forcing a wry smile, she responded with, "Oh gosh, no. I just didn't think you'd be here."_

_"Let's go in a more private area." Thomas suggested and used his hand to gesture for them to go lead._

_She and Teresa came up on an agreement to meet in a session room, sitting down at the table. "She wants us to think about this." The trio were weary and sure about their decision, their right hands put out in the center of the table. "Have we decided?"_

_"She's given us too much time, I believe." Teresa kept her stare on Thomas and he was responsive to it, putting his own right hand on theirs. "Let's do this."_

_Her hand gleefully plopped itself on Teresa's. "If Chancellor Paige thinks we're fit to find the cure this way, we can do this." She was excited to fulfill the orders of her caretaker. She had no recognition on if she was blood-related or not, and neither did Teresa or Thomas seem to care either. "We can."_

_"Good. I'll be the one to tell her." Thomas made an incomplete grin and they both got their hands to go upwards in a 'all in this together' motion. "I'll be back with her."_

 

_Chancellor Paige had come as fast as her meetings usually go, and the three of them stood at the ready for her words, her wide and earnest smile had her be filled with content determination. They'll find a cure together, and Chancellor would do anything to make them believe it. She looked down at them from her nose and she clasped her delicate hands together in front of them. "Then we'll get started as soon as they are to turn a year older. I believe their minds will be able to fully understand the situation by then. Understood?"_

_"Understood." They said in unison._

 

_A Korean specified boy arrived in the labs today, and it was intriguing to see his black hair flow in the liquids of the tank. His mono lids were closed like he was sleeping and his half naked self was respectfully covered while tubes were in and out of him in every direction. She didn't feel an ounce of regret for not feeling bad for them. They were to help find a cure. Next to him were others she'd soon get to know, smirking slyly. They'll find out soon._

_Her hand touched the cold tank, her smirk diminishing when she saw the boy float. He would be a good candidate. Her fingers stroked the glass wantonly, and she sniffed, eyes welling up. "I wish I could be in there already. This is taking forever."_

 

_A year passed, being 17, Thomas and Teresa recently celebrated their ages and it finally was down to her, feeling wholesome with being one of the Glader's ages for once. They had another boy be submitted after they were told that they would start being put in the Maze named Minho, after Minho Park. They all had names after famous people for famous things. Like Isaac Newton.. Thomas Edison, or Galileo. It was fascinating!_

_She was to not be given a telepathy ability for the experiments, and she expressed sadness for it. It seemed like a cool option to have if she was going to be crucial.. Sometimes they acted like she wasn't important in the subjects, and only Thomas chose Teresa as the partner to be operated on for that. She even waited for them in the waiting room after their surgeries, to see them giggle back and forth with their new technique and she felt not included._

_She clung to her hours of working; watching Minho through the screens intently and seeing him go over courses of puberty and become a Keeper. She couldn't be happier for him.. She wished she could have her memory when she's in the Glade just to tell him how much she adored his strength, having seen him grow for a whole year and a half, whether he was in a tank or out there Running. Skittishly and inquisitively, she turned on the audio to listen to a conversation he was having with the first Glader that they started with, who they named Alby._

 

_Right when she was getting into a good day with watching Minho wake up; Chancellor called for them three to go under the process. Delighted to see them put up no struggles, they seemed prepared and knew their mission as young candidates. They nodded tersely as she got them to be laid in medical beds one by one, their clothes not needing to be changed. "We will do The Swipe on all three of you."_

_"Yes, Chancellor."_

_"Remember. WICKED is good." She patted each of their hands in hers, lingering on Teresa's. "You'll be the last."_

_Teresa looked up at her and understood her order, their gas filled masks being put on their faces._

 

_In her medical bed that was rolled into a different hallway separate from the pair, her eyes closed when the strings appeared in her vision and she didn't move a muscle as the sweet scent lulled her to lose her sight._

_She fought it though, wanting to see the last remnants before she'd get to see Minho or Thomas or Teresa. "Eh.. nn.." She mumbled, fingers twitching and movements coming from the bumps and the smooth ride of the bed wheeling around. The lights that were above her passed, and her consciousness finally gave, sleep taking over.  
_

 

* * *

 

Hands pried her up and she hiccuped, her plastered memories blasting her in the mind and heart. It hurt, the despair of realizing what she was, or whatever they wanted her to think she was. Seeing Thomas and Minho and this.. Girl? What girl? Teresa? Who was that? And why did she feel jealous just thinking of her name or what she looked like? She whimpered and her hands grabbed onto whoever had to pick her up, her legs weak yet she tried to sit up on her own. 

It felt fake. That's all it felt like. She couldn't explain it. Sh had a sick to your stomach sensation at just the thought of someone tampering her mind.

She couldn't, her limbs simply slipping and sliding as her face was screwed tightly, hands eventually holding her head. "Agh!"

"What just happened?!" Thomas was panicking, being the look-out for Grievers as Minho maneuvered her onto his lap, pushing her hair out of her face. "She fainted again?"

"Greenie.. Greenbean-" He tried to get her attention as she was hyperventilating and felt that she was really losing her sanity. "What did you see?"

Minho was occupied on getting her to look at him, and when she did, she realized something. She wasn't even stung by a Griever, yet she had some memories. Very few, though. The Swipe, came up, and that was the term the Creators used to represent a mind swipe. She still had memories, though? What was up with that? She gaped at him and immediately took his cheeks into her hands, searching for comfort in his slightly squished expression. 

"Oh Minho.. I'm sorry.." She whispered, then saw Thomas looking at her like a freak. "This is my fault. I think it's my fault."

"What's your fault? You didn't do anything, you fell, shuck face!" He chided; frowning and letting her squish his face a bit, until he got her hands away from it. "Did you remember your name?"

"No.. I had a memory, but I can't explain it.." She gritted out, squinting her vision as if something was squashing her brain. "I can't."

"This is probably what happened with Alby, Minho. Don't make her bite her tongue.. Literally."

"Yeah, I know, Thomas." He feebly responded. 

Standing her up, her body wouldn't hold itself up. Minho got tired of having to see her trip over her own two feet, swiftly getting down to piggy back her on his broad back. "There."

"You can't surely hold her up this whole time."

"Shuck no. We're going back to the Glade."

"We just got here!" Thomas interjected and was dismissed as the Korean trudged past him, raising his eyebrow. "Seriously!"

"If you wanna stay, then by all means, stay!" He called out to his fellow Runner, their buckles clanking together in harmony. "Something is wrong with her." 

She wrapped her arms around his thick neck and whimpered tentatively, trying to relieve the pain in the front of her brain. Thomas was fired up from wanting to scope out Section 8 and she couldn't make it past a few miles. It sucked ass. Her head dipped to be resting on Minho's, breathing in his scent and remained calm, caressing his shoulders then his collarbone. 

Minho grunted here and there, having to adjust her and fix his hold under her knees, eyes slitted. "Those memories take a bunch of klunk out of you, huh?"

"It does." She whispered and kissed his temple. "I saw.." It hit her again and she hissed, turning her head away and biting her lip. "Ugh! I can't say it!"

Grumbling, he hiked her up by her thighs, walking stubbornly with thudded footsteps. "Don't be hard on yourself. It'll make it hurt more."

"I think my head is bleeding.." 

"Don't touch it."

"But.."

 

The Glade was as ordinary as it was every single day, and she was lowered carefully by Minho's tender hands, getting her to take baby steps to the sleeping bunks. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah.. I think so, now that it died down." She stretched her legs with the help of Thomas and Minho, her arms around their shoulders. The grass around them was such a rich forest green color, it was beautiful. They sat down on the platform belonging to the open area, side by side and watching everyone walk around to get to where they need to be. It was weird for a second, to be back early when they were supposed to be out there for longer until sunset.

She could smell the sunshine on her clothes, blinking a few times when she lifted her head to the sky. It was great instead of being in a dingy Maze and out of danger. Her boots dug on the dirt, her throat exposed while it was raised. She saw Minho lay back on the wooden boards and giggled, her palms flat behind her lower back. "Nice to be in the sun?"

"Very."

Thomas shielded his eyes with a hand and searched for Chuck, exhaling through his nose. "I wonder where Chuck is?" The ground gave a tremor and they all bolted in attention, knowing that sensation all too well. The Box was coming up. She saw Minho's face lose its ounce of relaxation, something was wrong. She was going to ask what it was, her hand being held in his hand and tugged to stand and run and go with him to the center of the quaking grounds. Her heart beat in her chest rapidly and she couldn't breathe for a second, looking back to see Thomas going after to them too, to see who it could be. 

"Minho?" She panicked, her hand squeezing his hand tightly. 

"The Box isn't supposed to come up today," Minho said, the Gladers noticing the same thing and forming a square around the Box. Their clothes tattered or ripped, it was a mess up ahead of them. She saw Newt limping with Alby to the doors that would soon pry open, the mechanism gearing up for access to them.

The elevator could be heard through the boy's fanatic questions, standing around for the news. She was brought to the front with Minho, the boys giving in to the breakage and split for a passage way, gasping and letting go of Minho's hand to gape down at the opening. Woah..

Newt hopped in and she could make out someone's legs under his shadow. He leaned over the person and he seemed to be checking to see if they were alright, putting his hand out to feel a pulse. He stopped to pick up the paper in their hand, she could see his spinal cord show lumped in Newt's skin. 

"It's a girl!" He announces to Alby who was doing his best to not fall in, holding back a Slopper Glader from peering inside too much. "I think she's dead?"

The crowd reacts with confusion and excitement. One boy calls dibs on the girl. Others ask how old she is. Newt shushes them with a hiss and furrows his brows in concentration. "There's something in her hand!" Shouts a slightly older teenager, indicating which hand it was. The British boy takes the crumpled up parchment and got it to display it's scrawled lettering. 

"She's the last one.. Ever." He says aloud to everyone listening, and the hysterics chorused out, her eyes swishing to Minho's focused face. She turned to see Thomas staring at the girl down there with fright, as if he's known her from somewhere. She wanted to know what he was thinking but was frozen, wanting to stay with her boyfriend to be sure of what to do next. 

The girl inside the box splutters to say something, Newt's body flipping to the side in having been startled. Everyone watches the mysterious new Greenie as she says one name only. It was, "Thomas! Thomas.. Thomas.." They all flitted to the scene of Thomas gulping, returning the glints of wanting answers out of him. Then the girl fell back asleep, Newt clasping onto the Box's walls to stay up, he didn't expect her to be alive. He was sure she wasn't breathing. 

Alby commands a few of the strongest Gladers to bring down Vines, to carry her out of the Box and out onto the courtyard, making his way around to Thomas to ask him things she was sure she wasn't allowed to know. Newt climbed out with aid of Minho, her face phased, looking from Alby to Thomas back to back. Something was going to happen.. Fast. 

Minho steered his girlfriend away from the mass of Gladers, hands on her arms and rubbing them to have her be distracted. Clint and Jeff get to the girl when she is brought up, joking of who called dibs and then announced a second later that she had a stable heartbeat and it'd be better to keep her with the Medjacks. Newt and Alby corned Thomas to question him, since he seemed to be the only person who was more scared. Not even the Greenie was scared, she was thinking about how insane it was that she wasn't the girl anymore of the Glade. Maybe they could be friends!

"Let's practice self defense." Minho sturdily instructed, her head nodding and her ponytail bouncing in the meantime in agreement. That'd be better than standing around these wacky shucks, practically catcalling at the girl from the Box. She walked with Minho until she got to see Clint and Jeff carrying her to the Homestead, catching a good look at her face. Her black hair and long lashes on her face stuck out the most of her framed self, and she swallowed hard. She knew who that was.

Teresa.

 

* * *

 

Practicing with Minho tended to be as boring as she could manage, lazily blocking his fists and then taking her swings gently at him. He taught her many things, their bonding furthering by the hours passing. Thomas was to go see Teresa when she was resting, and it made her fogged up to think that Thomas doesn't know she was, possibly? Was she the one who would be silent while they cracked the code?

Minho used his knuckle and braised her jaw, pretending to punch her, nudging her head to the side gently. "Hey. You're not being serious."

"Hmm?" She took the fake movement, moving her head to the side with his hand. "Oh. Sorry."

"What's with your shucked brain? You gotta do this with me."

"Don't mean to. Sheesh." She put her hands up and squinted her vision, seeing him prepare to give a punch, sliding her body to the side and catch his defenseless ribs, her fist touching it. "Got ya."

"I'm wounded. I'm hurt, you got me." He mocked and circled with her, their stances like boxers in the ring. "C'mon. Hit me."

"Hit you? As in.. For real?"

"I can take it."

"I don't think a pretty face like that can stand it." She smirked and licked her lips.

"You're a sissy. That's what it is." He smiled with all of his teeth, lips curling up. 

"Slinthead." 

"Shuck face."

Laughing in sync with him, she swished at him, seeing him recoil and get her sides, capturing her in a firm embrace. "Agh! Minho!" She braced herself on his arms and let her be swayed about, doing her best to hide her face. "Minho, don't!"

"You need to learn how to block better. You'll be shucked if someone like Gally wants to try and fight you." He stopped holding her in the air to put her on her feet, his hold on her waist indefinite. "I'm still proud, you know."

"I punched him in the face and I'm not exactly proud of it, that's nothing to be proud of. I could've been banished."

"Not for a punch." Minho corrected her. "If you used his ax on him, yeah, probably. You're hot when you fight."

"I'm hot?" She pursed her lips like she ate food that was sour. "Hmm.."

"As hot as when I take my shirt off." He beamed and ruffled her hair playfully. "Take my compliment, shank. I don't do it often."

"Yeah, I know that, for sure." She ruffled his back then watched him complain and try to fix it, throwing her head back in realizing he didn't want that to happen. "Don't do it to me first, shuck face, or else I do it back. That's how this kind of thing works!" 

Right as she was done talking, she saw Thomas sprinting straight into the Maze like a mad man and quickly beat on Minho's chest, getting him to see it too. "Dude, do you see what I'm seeing?"

"I do." He gritted out, their moment interrupted. "What is he doing?"

They both watch him disappear into the Maze and he is just.. Dumbfounded at Thomas's actions. She guessed it wasn't normal. 

 

* * *

 

The doors had closed for that night and several other nights passed coolly; she was snuggled into Minho's chest, he was shirtless and gloriously slaying his own scale of being attractrive. It was comfortable, the altercation that the boys couldn't dare to touch her or try to flirt, because a Keeper gets what he wants. She was his, and he was hers. That's how it was. Nothing could change it. Smoothing down his hair and prodding at his cheeks, she was having fun with getting in his face, whether it was to kiss him or tug on his cheeks to have him make an expression. 

He was the type to get annoyed if she was persistent and pinch at her, or fluster her by grinding his body on hers. The hammock had been replaced by a bed since they wanted more space, even if what they got was a single bed. It could work. They checked their surroundings and saw Thomas wasn't in his usual spot, her elbows being leaned on to be on her stomach. "Thomas isn't here." Thomas had been acting weirdly since that other girl got in the Box.

"He's in the Deadheads." Minho tucked her fly aways behind her ears, scanning her features closely as he was on his back, head on the pillow. "Why are you worried about him?"

"I'm not worried, I think I've seen him.. Like.. Before I was sent here." 

"You're sure about that?" 

"I'm not.. That's the thing. I'm not sure about anything anymore."

"It's fine. It'll take longer, which I can wait for."

"You're not the kind to do that. That's odd."

"Eh. I can change my mind."

Snickering at his way of being goofy, she nuzzled their noses together while getting onto his chest, her legs on the exterior of his body. This was the position she preferred, or when she's passed out under his arm and buried into his ribs. They both would throw an arm over each other in the midst of sleeping, and then be tangled in the morning. "Let's sleep."

Yawning, Minho didn't want to blow out the lamp that hung above their bed, seeing her through the slits of his exhausted mono lids to get on all fours to puff out a billow of air towards the glass guarding the flame inside. Once she got back down, he caged her on the mattress, this time changing up their disposition. She was underneath him, his body weight halfly on her and halfly on the sheets. It was a cool temperature outside, so there was no need for covering up. His head nestled on her collarbone, and he could sense her hand coming up to stroke through his hair. 

She did that when she wanted to be soothed, almost like how babies teeth on teething rings when distressed. It worked like a charm. 

 

Morning came, except the sun wasn't shining bright.. It felt wrong. The air felt wrong, too. Minho in depth to snoring lightly, her eyes fluttered to see the ceiling of the Homestead. Windows were curtained, and she couldn't tell if it was earlier than mandatory time to be up for preparing for Running. If he was still sleeping, it'd be safe to continue slumbering. 

So she did.

She slept harder than ever, like it was a nap. Her lips parted to breathe in and breathe out, her hands strayed on the bed and not busying themselves with the Korean's soft hair. She felt the bed dip a bit throughout the next minute or two, shifting to get used to it. Minho was awake and getting off of her to use the bathroom, probably and she didn't mind it, getting on her side to face the wall. 

He didn't take too long, kneeling on the bed and shaking her by the arm. "Let's get up. We're an hour late."

"We are?" Groggily and trembling in a cat-like stretch, she scratched the back of her head. "That's not bad, is it?"

"Not necessarily." His face was puffy, and he balled his fingers to wipe the tiredness out of his face. "Let's go get our stuff and fetch Thomas."

He hadn't put on a shirt yet, and she chuckled, patting his abs. "You'll have to give-" She didn't need to finish her sentence, he got the gist of her little policy. He gave her chaste kiss, and she could taste the faint mint on his gums. It was wonderful! It refreshed her palate, and she groaned, tugging on his hair slowly to knead his scalp. "I love when you kiss me like that."

"I love that you love that." Minho was suave, albeit having no time to be wasting time. He moved away from her to tie his boots up, his arms flexing with every miniscule fraction. Bunny ears and looping it all together was what it took to secure her shoes on her feet, going to the door to leave and go to the concrete building that belonged to the Runner's Headquarters. 

The sky.. What happened to the sun? The sky!

It was fabricated by an unforgettable screen.. It was terrifying. Gladers were doing the same as them, scared that the sky is gone. A switch that turned off sunlight or anything, it wasn't there anymore. It was a dull gray, dimming the world that revolved around the pair and the round of boys. 

Sun means crops and no sun means no crops and every one dies from starvation. This was devastatingly the worst moment to Minho, since he cared for the well-being and survival ethics of everyone working in cooperation to stay alive. This was unacceptable. His brown orbs stared at it long and hard, his brows planed out to show he was in pure terror. "This isn't real.."

"It is.. Every one else sees it." She gulped and took his hand in hers, holding it for protection, pressing her side on his arm. "Minho.. I'm scared."

"We need to find Thomas then go get breakfast." The Korean's voice trembled, then he cleared his throat gruffly, directing her to go with him and she tried to not trip on the way. She couldn't stop gazing at the numb coating around the Maze, it was a dead sensation that she couldn't stand. 

Thomas comes out of the Deadheads, his hands swinging by his waist and he gets a good look at the sky like the other Gladers, crazed. "The sky.. What the?"

"Shank!" Minho called out to him and he jogged with her, stopping when they met up. "You see what I'm seeing?"

"Yeah, I am." He murmured, his Adam's apple bobbing with a dry swallow. "This isn't good." 

"We need to eat something light and start our map-making process." Minho sniffed, their hands not linked so he could put his hands on his hips authoritatively. "This will probably clear up when we're in the Maze."

"Good that." He stopped to give the okay at his leader, them three going to Frypan's meal of the day. "I hope he doesn't make his special stew again."

 

They ate that light breakfast Minho mentioned, and entered the Maze in a matter of an hour, pooling their thoughts into one big batch. "That definitely was creepy, Minho. I was told to check up on Teresa.. And.. She said that she triggered somethin'." Thomas was frustrated as much as the duo and Minho was bummed to think that Thomas could have an answer for anything that was going on. Forget it. 

She munched on a meat stick and had a sip of water from her mini bottle, pocketing it then finishing off the rest of her snack. She ripped up vines to monitor their way back, having to do a new section to map their way along. It was better than leading and deciding to not get lost. Minho made sure they never got lost, her job of vining doing good enough. Thomas was to record the things down and memorize along with him, their time being in the Maze excruciatingly slow. 

Minho was about to make a right hand signal to Thomas and she was shredding up a vine, the sound being obvious from behind them, but he stopped them from moving a muscle, ducking at the wall and throwing his arm around Thomas's chest to get him against it too. It must've been a Griever and she dropped the greens to slam herself on it too, waiting for the next sign. Was it a Griever?

He refused to check on who or what in that corridor and she could see him thinking of either a way out or way in without disturbing anything. She scooted her steps to Thomas bit by bit then peeked at Minho. He looked into the hallway and then whipped his face back around, closing his eyes. "Minho." She whispered quietly. "What is it?"

"It's a Griever.. But it's not moving."

"It's not mov-"

"Shh!" He put a finger to his lips, and his ear picked up on a certain sound, turning to check for the third time. 

It was gone.

He scraped his shoe ware on the ground and he bolted in a flash, Thomas and her pursuing the Griever and it's mind tricks. "That shucking Griever was playing dead! Shuck!" Minho swore angrily, his legs burning with intensity and adrenaline pumping in his veins.

His hair flew by how much speed he gained, seeing the ends of the Griever's pincers scrambling to run away from them, as if it had somewhere else to patrol. It was going all wrong until they got to a dead end, Minho halting everyone and watching the Griever jump onto a collapsed mesh of a broken wall and a full wall. It went up and out of sight, as if it was taking a shortcut. 

Where did it go?

They followed any path that seemed like it went in the way of the shortcut, their ears booming with the pulse of blood and their muscles aching from exertion. They saw an intersection that lead to Section 7, and MInho quirked up, using his fist to get Thomas's attention. "Dude, come here for a sec." The three Runners saw a long passage, with no sides, just floor leading up to a dead end.

Their encounter was spot on to be the strangest thing they saw today. The Griever.. Went through this.. Wall? What?

The intelligent Glader felt for anything on it and then glanced at Minho, his ears seeming to have lifted from hearing a crackle. Minho clicked his tongue and crossed his arms. "What are you looking at me like that for- Hey!" He had his back faced to Thomas with a push and his pack was dug into, a metallic tube with a red italic 7 etched on the inside. 

"This.. Thing, it's making noise."

"I didn't hear anything." She raised an eyebrow. "What the hell is that thing?"

"From the first Griever's body we killed.." Thomas spurred it in his hands, checking it's wires that stuck out at the top and bottom. Was it a key? Nah.

"Still don't hear anything." 

"No, listen.." He brought it a little higher to their ears until a fluorescent button lit up on the left side of the object, a sound reciprocating on the space next to them. Gasping and holding her hand to her mouth, she blinked wildly at the wall lifting to see a vault-like door greeting them. 

"Woah." Minho and his girlfriend said at the same time, walking towards it to get a clearer view. They were nothing engraved on it.. No bolts or nuts. This is impossible to piece together."

They didn't spend too much time being on the spot, since Thomas was realizing this was it. "Guys, this is the way out."

"Thomas-" She was going to skeptically remark on his inquisitive attitude, until the walls vibrated, indicating they weren't fast enough. They were scanned with a line of light, and she groaned, having to rub out the pain in her eye from that. The walls shook harder, and Minho knew they weren't welcome from that point on.

"Run!" Minho shouted as they started hunching down on them, and she hopped out of there barely with a second to waste, running with them to get out of the wall's way of shutting them out or trapping them in. 

They all got to safety after a mile was ran, and they got on the floor, rolling onto their backs or leaning on their knees in relief. 

"We're not going to tell Alby? Or Newt?" Thomas sprouted, massaging his ligaments and muscles. 

"Not yet. We have a job to do. We'll go straight to the Map-Making room and not inform them until we're done." Minho's eyebrows went down, his forehead wrinkling. This was endless torture. 

 

Thomas and Minho put down the evidence and noted where exactly they saw this.. wall, her foot jiggling in anxiety as she sat not too far from them in the small room. She picked at her fingernails when they'd walk back and forth around the resemblance of the Maze created with intricate designs of wood carvings and sticks, that must have taken a while to prepare. It heightened, her nervousness and her foot stopped when Minho slicked his hair back at not finding a clue. 

His friend was just as obvious to their dedication, deciding it'd be better to inform them now that they thought they had enough. Thomas had left to go to the Deadheads and hadn't come back for a little while, thus them going to the door. Alby and Newt were right at the door, about to open it, and weren't stoked to see them particularly. This party got downhill real quick. 

Alby pointed at the doors that were supposed to close. She hadn't realized it was sunset already. "Minho. Look."

Minho simultaneously saw that were open. Open wide and free. Maybe it took longer today to close? "Alby.."

"I don't think this is a good idea to say we're shucked, but we're shucked." Newt dryly reminded them and he limped to the side of Alby. 

Gawking at the doors continuously, she panicked. What if Grievers could get in? What would they do? How will they fight if they have no weapons, like Minho said to her when she first started this damned risky Running business? "The Box didn't arrive today, which means no supplies. We don't got the shucking sun, neither, so how will we grow our crops?"

Minho focused on this situation instead of the fact that they were going to have a bad night and brought them in a huddle. "We got no supplies, no sun, now the doors don't close.. But we have information."

"Bloody brilliant, mate, you bring that up after we tell you about the doors?" Newt deadpanned, extremely done. 

"Shut up, and listen!" 

They explained about the way out, as they call it, and frantically used his hands to be specific. "That's how it did it."

"Let me get this straight, you find the way out this simply? By a vault?"

"Shuck it, if that's what they want us to think, the Creators are that smart." Newt chimed in; his hands were tucked under his armpits in thought. 

"We need to see what we'll do for the night. We'll need to round up the Gladers in a bit." Alby instructed strictly, jaw clenching. "This is time to think of strategies while being safe in the Glade. No more beating around the bush. Newt, come with me. We've already notified Thomas and put the Greenie in the Slammer." Newt tagged along with Alby, running and limping towards the courtyard.

"They put her in the Slammer? That means she's awake? Woah.." She stared at the ground, dismayed. 

"You won't freak out and be a sissy, will you?" Minho muttered to her, seeing that she was in thought of what could happen. "I won't let anything bad happen to you."

"Pfft. I won't." She brushed it off and cleared her throat shakily, looking down. "Umm.. Minho."

"What?"

"Can I get a hug?"

He could tell she wasn't right in the head and he captured her into a warm hug, getting her head into his chest to smother her. "I won't let you die tonight. We'll get through this night."

"The doors-" She whimpered out, despite his smothering and it sounded muffled into his shirt, her hands clasping onto the back of his chest piece. "What if they.. Never close again."

"Quiet." He ran his hand over and over on her hair, his eyes closing. 

 

* * *

 

"Board up the Homestead.. And grab the weapons, Minho." Alby brought it to the Keeper in charge of Running equipment and he nodded with Minho, her hand flailing out to swat at Minho's elbow. The black Glader didn't laugh, but simply turned to go back to lifting large amounts of wood to the Homestead. 

"I deserved that." Minho's resounded a growl at the hit and his eyes cinched at the throbbing in his elbow, he went with her, even when she was complaining.

"You said we don't have any weapons!"

"I lied."

"What for! Why? Do you think I'd stab you in your sleep?"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"I'm not, I'm being rational!" Her shrill voice made him groan. 

"Are you done?" He snapped, swinging the door to the concrete building open to let her inside. "Get in!"

Going under the bridge that his arm was made out to be for holding the door for her, they both went in together, and he grabbed a key chain that hung on a nail held keys in two toned colors. "I need you to move."

"You're going to hit me with the keys?"

"Greenie." He glared at her with impatience and she stepped aside, her boots echoing under her. Was there..?

He leaned down and pulled about seven floor boards out, shoving them to the shoe slots then revealed a door to a basement, unlocking it with a brass key. "Nngh!" He used his valuable hand to tug the latch up and over, showing a staircase leading down into the weapon's secret stash. 

"Why did you keep it there and not tell me?" 

As he was climbing downwards, he hopped off to cough and wave his hand to get rid of the dust that clouded at his feet. "We didn't trust Gally at the time.. So people like him don't go through this type of thing and take any of it for themselves."

That made sense. And she felt bad for hitting him and having him be nagged at over a light lie. She didn't need to apologize, he would toss knives of all sorts above the surface so she can collect them and put them on a table for them to carry out. "The Homestead is our protection home-wise. Like a fortress. Alby should almost be done with barricading everything and he'll know not to cover up the door until I get there with weapons."

"Where will I be?"

"With me, shank." His last word was emphasized as he got back up, kicking the latch down and then getting a crate from the corner to dump the knives in. "Get one side!"

They used their agility to carry it out of the Runner Headquarters, and went up the hill towards the Homestead, three boys came to help them lift it, the amount of silver and metal being too much for her. "I promise I'll lift more after we get through this night-" 

 

Working out the sleeping accommodations and going upstairs with Minho, she saw Newt and Alby sitting in a circle in their chairs, getting anxiety again. What's going to happen? The eerie moans from the Maze were entering the Glade and she couldn't fathom when they'll actually be in. Thomas came last but not least and shut the door behind them, his hands in a prayer motion. Minho discussed what they should do after tonight, to stay out in the Maze and study but Alby thought it was stupid to say a stunt like that and no one would actually do it. 

Thomas objected and felt that they were two best Runners and they'd do it, excluding her. She didn't listen, she'd go if Thomas felt that way. She'd be with Minho through thick and thin, no matter what. That's loyalty. 

"I'll be in the Map-Making room. I'll be in charge of it."

"Alby, I don't know about that.." Newt ushered, not wanting him to be out there just yet. "Please."

"I gotta, man." He insisted, clapping him on the shoulder. "It's something I have to do."

"Fine." Newt let it go and bent his head, settling his elbows on his thighs to trail his hands in his short hair. 

 

* * *

 

They laid together on some medical bed that they plucked out of the nursing part of the Homestead, the mattress being put on the floor and not on a bed frame, making the thing creak or squeak with their positions they forcibly changed into. The room was packed with all the Gladers who were wide awake to listen closely to the sounds of the Grievers outside, and her fingers twisted into Minho's shirt, feeling cold. "I.. I'm cold."

He felt her forehead and it was hot to the touch. "What are you talking about? You're shucking getting a fever or something."

"I am?" She breathed; and felt her cheeks. "No.."

"We'll be fine." He hushed, not wanting the others to start staring and being snoopy. "C'mon." He whispered to her then kissed the top of her head, his hands roaming over the middle of her back. "Lay into me. You're safe." 

"I can hear them.." Her voice went up a notch and she put her face into his neck, threatening to leak tears. Her emotions have been through the ringer and it was difficult to stay brave. Those Grievers could kill her, or give her The Changing, or rip her to bits. That wood they hammered and nailed in crevices won't hold those monsters back. She could sense his longing sigh and his chest rumbling in unison, searching for a way to take her worries away. 

A gigantic rattle shook the house and she dived into Minho, his hand holding the back of her head and sitting up to the noise, standing up with everyone else that heard it. Her legs buckled as she was up and battled her thoughts of hiding under a table or in a cupboard, nerves shot. 

Then the door opens. 

It's Gally. 

He was scared beyond his wits.


	8. The Ambition.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grievers break into the Glade, and cause disaster to all the Gladers. Sacrificial offers are made by the new Leader, and they escape in division, ready to have a free life. Or so they thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take days off to think of new chapters, and please do take notice that I spend many hours jumbling everything together to make it work, or change certain chapters to fit the story perfectly. It may be confusing, but I'm sorry. I've been accused by a hater yesterday that I'm plagiarizing the book and the movie even though this is a fanfiction and I don't appreciate the comment. I'm not plagiarizing anything. I'm mashing it up and putting it together, and I involve the Reader to make it realistic, this is fanfiction for a reason. Kindly fuck off. ^^ I don't need to be distracted by people who don't like my works. Sorry not sorry. As always, enjoy.

Slamming the door after him, Gally backed up into Alby who was trying to calm him down as much as he could. He was frantic, looking from the ceiling to the surroundings of the Gladers who were alarmed. He came back from that morning, which means Griever's must have scared him from his hiding spot. Teresa was with Thomas in the corner, rod straight to Gally's return too, and Minho had to hold her to the side in yielding. This wasn't the time to talk about banishing or punishing, there was danger outside and they were trapped in one area of the Glade. This wasn't going to last long, for sure. 

Gally held onto Alby's shoulders and wet his lips to get his words out. "Alby, we can't stay here, they're out there!"

"We know that, that's why we're in here! We're fine!" Alby argumentatively commented. 

Minho got closer to this and so did Newt, their eyebrows shooting up in concern. "No you don't understand, they've gone nuts!" The tall Glader warned, throwing his hand out in the direction he came in. "There is like ten of them-!" 

A huge crash shook everyone up and yells were heard, some Gladers straining to get up under the wood bits that flew onto them. She jumped high in the air and got out of the way, a log hitting her in the leg as she did so. She shrieked in pain and tripped, holding the side of her calf. The Griever was scraping it's pincers to get a hold of a Glader that was running out of the Homestead, only to get on top of the boy and sting him harshly, the tail using it's end to capture him completely. 

She couldn't breathe after that. Witnessing the stung boy who stopped thrashing after being punctured, her jaw trembled. Shuck. Shuck! Minho shielded his head as straw and bamboo fell on their heads; The Griever had sliced through the ceiling like it was butter and everything shattered, everyone deciding to start splitting up. She was still on the floor and desperately tried to grab onto anyone that passed her, crying out for help. 

Minho saw her through the dust flying in the air and ran to her, Newt taking it upon himself to go right ahead and run to lead. "We have to get the sticks!" She was grabbed under her arm pits by Minho and went with them despite the throbbing pain in her muscle, her eyes shut tight. "C'mon!"

Thomas took Teresa, Clint and Alby with him, Gally going in a completely wrong direction to go with anyone that opposed him. Him and his kronies.. Damn them. She held around Minho's neck with an arm, limping about and sprinting brokenly. "Ah!" She grunted, gritting her teeth. Turning her head to see another death, two Grievers attacked one boy on the spot of him trying to catch up with them, his body soaring in the sky and hitting the tower that had taken days to be built. She winced for the spikes that were skewered into his torso and abdomen, forcibly focusing on Newt's clothes that clung to his body. 

Newt and Minho reached the many bins with sticks that had sharpened tips, looking threatening but not as threatening as the Griever's stingers. She took one, shaking out her leg to get rid of the soreness. "What do we do?"

"Throw them right at the Grievers!" Newt ordered and passed some to Minho, two for both of his hands to hold. "Use it any way you can!" Minho had tucked a cleaver type of knife into a holster he wrapped around his chest piece, their Runner outfits able to withhold them. 

 

While Newt and Minho and her were getting weapons to defend themselves, Thomas and Teresa guided Alby and Clint on their route to the Council Hall, where Gatherings are held and where Gally went off in a tantrum as their only solution to be safe. They ran and ran, witnessing many Glader deaths and them being stung to the point they died on the spot. It was insane!

A Keeper of the Track-Hoe's named Zart was with them, his bleach blonde hair standing out amongst the torches that were lit to see their way in the night. It was dark and frightening, their body's reaching the crops of corn stalks that rose high above the grass and soil. 

They crouched, except Zart didn't get too close and searched his environment with fear in his eyes. He was the one that called dibs on Teresa when she first arrived. Thomas looked in his eyes and could tell that he wasn't going to live by how shaken he was. A Griever's tail snuck up around the stalks and snatched him by his back, sliding him out of their vision while they watched.

They screamed and ran out of the crops, knowing that this was also not a safe space to be in, resuming their running. This wasn't going to end! 

 

* * *

 

 

Gally and his friends halted and saw the Box, heading right in there with their single torch for light, the doors shutting them in and backing up against the four corners to pant. Gally's eyes were big and hindered, not having expecting that this could be the end and he'd be at fate if the Griever's could climb in after them. 

 

* * *

 

 

They didn't have time to find all the flashlights, the torches being all they had. It was a pain since it made it easier for Griever's to find them and pull them out to kill them. Minho flew his spiked stick at a Griever's head, making the monster falter and try to get it out of it's wounded hole. "I see Thomas and them!" Newt shouted for their attention to be put on the group of survivors, and he prepared his stick to be tossed out. A Griever had been charging right towards them and they were ready to fight, their remaining sticks not enough. 

She groaned and spiraled her stick right at it's bulbous side, Minho and Newt aiming for the head to give it a double whammy. It stopped and squealed in pain, using it's mighty legs to break the sticks that stuck out of it's body. "Council Hall, let's go!" Thomas gathered with the rest of the group as one, his sweat growing by the second by exerting himself. Minho and his partner were rugged, no more weapons to hold other than knives if they needed to use it. 

Teresa and her were handed torches, but they were deemed useless. Looking at each other incredulously, they decided to toss it at the Griever, the piercing whine nearly deafening them. 

Alby was frantic and Clint was asking what they are going to do once their in the Council Hall, in which Teresa replied with, "What do you think?!" Chuck was waving his lamp for them to see him. "Guys! Let's go!" He was shrill from his prepubescent voice, and he used his hand in a hither motion rapidly, his curls bouncing. "Guys!"

They filed in and went right past him, Minho having to reach the center and ball his hands, his chest hurting with every breath he took. She stood close next to him, random Gladers that survived having taken up some space but it was enough to fit everyone that was left. Thomas was the last to run in, shutting the door for Chuck and their torches and lamps were stowed away, breathing and heartbeats being the last thing they heard.

Roars of Griever's outside echoed, making some of them gasp and silently stare at everything in the Council Hall. It wasn't a brick house.. And it looked unstable. A sniff of the Griever had everyone pushed to one side, her breath being held on purpose. All of their shoes were making little noises, and she wished to every thing out in space that she could be swallowed up. They weren't going to live, were they?

The sounds followed round and round of the Council Hall, trying to find a weak point and where vast people were crowding. Every time they moved, the more the sounds came. Minho's eyes slitted, knuckles nearly turning white.

Thomas was hushing everyone, yet he knew it didn't work, they were panicking in the quietest way. Abruptly, The Griever used it's legs and stomach to cave in the ceiling, making everyone duck and shout from the amount of wood and sticks hitting their limbs, them falling to the floor. 

She could see Chuck recovering in the near corner, brushing off his pants. A familiar sensation filled the boy and he slowly could make out a tail stretching out it's claws. It caught him by his shirt, attempting to take his life. Alby sprang to life with his cleaver that he held, and hit at the tail ferociously, causing it's stinger to be broken off. 

Teresa and Thomas and everyone including herself grabbed onto each other's shirts, arms, wrists and hands, pulling Chuck. She could hear Chuck curse at Thomas sarcastically yet beseechingly, knowing damn well he's not going to let go. "Alby!" She yelled, seeing him use all his strength to have the tail let him go and she whimpered, her hands starting to strain. Minho was pulling around her arm, and it hurt too, but she knew it'd be worth it if Chuck was saved. 

Everyone was shouting and it made her ears ring, she was surely going to throw up if they kept this up. Everyone fell back, and a Glader got snatched from under the hut's boards, making everyone on edge and be terrified of who would be next. Thomas got Chuck up and brushed him off.

Every thing was fine for a second.. Then Alby got grabbed.

They don't stop!

She was going to run and help Thomas, but Thomas went alone, them all staying behind. The way he was grabbed was impossible to help him, he was on the verge of being over the broken structure. He was done for. 

Something was said between Alby and Thomas and she started to tear up, being held back by her shirt and Minho was strict on it, refusing to let her go after them. He wasn't going to make it. They have to deal with it. Thomas screeched at Alby as he was gone from their sight and it was like as if the Grievers left to go back in the Maze. She let her tears go down her cheeks and she ripped herself from Minho, using her dirty palms to paw at her face. Teresa wasn't crying but she was surely scarred. 

This all happened within nearly an hour.. This was.. Nothing, compared to how long these Gladers were around. Everyone started to get out of the Council Hall to see if they were gone, knives still in hand in caution. They were head to toe in either dirt, dust, or both, some clothes ripped to shreds and hair was burnt on others. How did they get burned? 

She could see Minho going out with them, and she walked over the parts that were destroyed, watching their facilities burn to a crisp. Fog, smoke and sand was filling the air.. She didn't have the heart to cry further, her features forlorn. Their home was gone. 

Thomas and Newt could see the outline of figures emerging from the Box and she couldn't pay any mind to it. Minho did though, and he was in stance, lips pursed to who it was. She totally could've known it was him and she huffed, stomping her foot then swallowing hard. Why was he striding to them like that. 

He was quick, his hand reeling back then punching Thomas to the face, in which Thomas knocked right into her, sending them both to the floor. His head hit hers and she clinged to Thomas, cushioning his fall completely. Frypan, Clint and Newt held him back, even Winston, the Keeper of the Slicers. Now her head pounded, Thomas apologizing and getting off of her to cough and pull her up by her hand, his free hand cradling the part that Gally hit. 

"This is all yours and her fault, Thomas!" He accused; his octaves going up. "Look around you!"

Minho had his hand on his cleaver handle and he growled, but his girlfriend stopped him urgently, covering his hand with hers. "I'm fine, Minho!"

"What are you talking about, Gally!" Newt snapped at him, though Gally kept going in his rant. "Don't do this!"

"Alby told me! They were sent here and look what happened! It's all your faults!  _Let **GO**_ of me!" The tall Glader spat, his forearms being used to push down any of the arms that blocked him from getting to them. 

"Alby.. What?" Minho whispered, looking down to her then at Thomas and Teresa. Thomas had this expression, like he was ashamed. He was right. 

Chuck was holding the stinger in hand and he flinched when Thomas took it from him, staring long and hard at the object. She did too, desperate to know what it's properties could do. She wanted to remember. Something, anything, like Thomas did. She had the guts to do it. Then he stuck himself with the device, and every one lost their minds.

Gally was in shock that Thomas actually did what he thought he'd never do, his attempts to fight him dropping instantly. 

The Stinger was knocked aside and they knelt down to him while he was in a seizure. The effects were that fast, wasn't it. "He's right." She mimicked Thomas's words and put herself down to the Stinger, picking it up. There was some left, hopefully. She looked from the survivors to Minho, who was seeing it all like a tournament of who was going to live or die. 

Then he gazed at her, his eyebrows slanting downwards. His words splayed out, " _No!_ " and the stinger that Thomas had injected himself with was inside of her. Both Gladers were spazzing, and all she felt was a whirlwind of emotions and pain. 

Oh.. The pain.

It was like poison. Poisoning her thoughts, mind, consciousness and limbs altogether. Minho's hands reached out to grab her up but she was shaking way beyond his ways of holding her, instead fisting his hands in her shirt and wrenching her back and forth like he would to an enemy he hated. He didn't hate her, but in this moment, he could have. She stung herself like Thomas did and he didn't get to her in time. She wanted to know.. What a fool. 

He called out to her, using nicknames and the spiel, but she couldn't hear him, her head touching the grass with every tug and pull. He didn't stop, and his face was the last thing she could see or make out. He must have been unruly to see her do that. 

 

* * *

 

_Chancellor Paige had this smile, an evil yet diligent kind. It wasn't like her to be a care taker or care at all for the candidates unless they followed her every whim, and makes every one in the building believe she has utmost power. She had taught her things, and made sure she was taken in instead of killed when she was informed that she was immune. She wasn't going to contract it, but it was still a caution to be away from people who have the Flare. She had learned what the sickness was about as she grew up and they found that she could be trusted with the information._

_She was held by her upper arms through her lab coat and she stared up to the woman. She was menacing, in a polite manner. That's eerie. "WICKED is good."_

_"I know, ma'am." She responded.  
_

_"I don't think you do. But you'll know."_

_"I **do** know." _

_Sighing and letting go of her, Chancellor Paige checked her wrist watch. Her hair was in a neat bun, while her own was cut right at the shoulder, having been forced to grow it out over the years of her stay. It was proven to be a dress code and she kind of hated it. She piped up the courage to say something. "Ma'am."_

_"Yes?"_

_"Will you be assigning me to any other candidate fields?"_

_"Why yes, I was thinking of doing so."_

_"I'd rather stay in my field for a little while longer before we are subdued into the Maze, miss." She asked quietly, her eyes showing it was for something personal._

_She didn't hold back her curiosity. "Does this have anything to do with our Variables?"_

_"...Yes." She bowed her head, ashamed she could think about having feelings for someone that would never like someone like her. She was pathetic and if he was to know she was a part of the design, he'd surely ditch her._

_"You know that wasn't part of all this. I'm not mad at you."_

_"You're not?"_

_But her favorite was Thomas? She would've had her put out in the outside world, for telling her this! Why? She took her time with processing how the Chancellor was calm, and noted that this wasn't the time to be like this. "I'm not."_

_"But the Variables.. It'll be messed up. You're sure that you're not mad?"_

_"It only gains another Variable."_

_"What do you mean?" She squinted her eyes, and her heart became solid. "Another? I thought we had it all figured out?"_

_"Your information gave me something new. Something important to add. This might be a setback, but I'll keep you to look over the subjects."_

_She was being kept.. That was good. She wouldn't get to leave Minho's sight on the computers. Another Variable though? Who would it be?_

_"Can I please.. Ask one more question?"_

_"Go ahead."_

_"I.. Am I becoming a Variable too?"_

_She smiled that evil smile like she was mentioning before and she nodded curtly. Oh no. She was a Variable._

_"We have Subject B1, from Group B."_

_"Of course," She caught onto her words, waiting for the last that mattered most._

_"Then we have The Leader." That's Minho. "The Glue." That's Newt.. "The Betrayer." She hadn't yet figured out who that would be. "You are.. The Ambition."_

_Her term was clear. Ambition? What could her ambition be other than finding a cure? It didn't make sense. "Does my Variable mean anything crucial?"_

_Ignoring her question, the woman checked the time again. "I am done with this conversation, I have a meeting to attend to. Good luck with your studies and research until it's time to decide." Chancellor Paige's face cut out like a pixel-ish vibe, as if the memory had stopped right there on the spot, and a memory surfaced, of lights and walkways, computers, and Creators of the Maze looking at their work through a screen._

_They were lifeless, bored, and would rather do anything else than doing the work they were made to do day and night. She felt the same, sitting next to Thomas and opposite would be Teresa. It was awkward, watching them give knowing looks and questioning with their eyes. It was uncomfortable to watch them, so she'd focus on Minho's adjacent face that popped up on her screen, studying his brain wave patterns and his personality they are all tested for in the beginning._

_He was also immune, but the boy would never know about it until it was time to know. She was attentive to everything he did from the Beetle Blades, his arguing or skills of memorizing things. His future was unknown, but she'd have daydreams that it'd be with her, living happily every after. It might be wrong to dream in a setting like this, but it's all she had. After her mother was shot down at the doors of the building._

_It was clean work spaces for all, squeaky and scrubbed every morning. It was of no infection, not to be dirty like the boys' lived. Monitors were focused on Minho in the Map-Room, mapping the whole thing himself and keeping it a secret from everyone but Alby that there was nothing else to map. It was done in a matter of a year. The Maze just changes at night and the numbers revealed a pattern yet it was the same every time._

_Alby said that it was right to hide it from everyone, that the Maze was finished and that they'd look for "clues" to make it look like they worked hard at it. To repeat the phrase that they were looking for a way out. But they hadn't found the last puzzle piece, hence why he said it'd be better to lie and keep it between themselves._

_She smiled like an idiot that Minho figured it out, but couldn't find the right Section. Soon, they'll find it soon. They'll break the record of Groups that have found it faster than Group B, hopefully._

 

_She remembered the days that Minho would look at her through the tanks and hit the glass, seeing his rage as nothing. That he would understand soon about the cure and that he would be lucky to not have the Flare or ever will. His rage was directed as misunderstanding in her book and she'd feel the sensation of his hits, placing her hand on the coolness of the glass._

_She didn't know how to comfort him, he was going to be put in soon and so she'd leave him. On the way out, she could hear the gargling yells of the boy named Gally. His personality was scored to be aggressive and dulled in other important fractions, leading him to be the one that would do the drastic event._

_She was a Creator. A designer. There was no going back after she is in the Maze. She had discussed with the doctors that if they were on her side, they'd not give her The Swipe completely like Teresa and Thomas. They'd give her half of it, pleading that they give her sympathy for the loss of her parents. They agreed, only to be paid with the rest of her belongings when she's gone. Her belongings would be nothing to her once she was with Minho, and she gave it up to have the half Swipe. It was better than nothing._

_It was so that she could at least remember some things, of her family, of what she did. To feel regret. And work hard to be a new person, reborn again with someone she liked.. And loved at the same time, even if he didn't know her yet._

 

* * *

 

Days pass, and Griever's have taken bodies left and right, leaving them down to about twenty boys. It wasn't as much as it was when they first started, and they lost their Leader, Alby, but they'd suffice with what they have. Her body was strewn in the side of a stony prison, and she blinked her eyes open exhausting how her body hurt even after everything she went through. She could imagine being alone, but she wasn't, Teresa holding Thomas on her lap and running her hands through his short cut hair. How come Minho wasn't with her?

She sat up and moaned of the stretch of her back, her joints lofting on the rocks behind her. Minho, Chuck and Newt sat in front of the Slammer's bamboo knotted door, seeing their disapproving looks on their faces. Thomas hadn't woke up yet, and she stared right at Minho, who wasn't clean at all. He looked like he forgot to shower or fix his hair. 

Brown splotches reigned itself on his neck and all over his clothes, making him look like a beggar. "H-Hey."

"What the _shuck_ were you thinking?" Chuck's question made her glance at him sadly. She knew what she did was stupid, and she heard Thomas shift and wake up at Chuck's condescending tone, looking up at Teresa with his hazel orbs. The insides of the Slammer consisted of stone, and cement in the crevices, keeping everything tied together neatly. It's like this was the only place the Grievers didn't fall on. 

Thomas and her connected their sight and they both knew they had to say something that was going to either make them get hated or praised for being honest and confess. 

"Before you both say anything, Gally took over." Newt informed, his plush lips coming in a thin line. He wasn't happy about being over throned by a slinthead.

"Lovely." She jostled herself and hugged her knees to her chest. "That shuck-face doesn't deserve to call himself a Leader." Alby's death replayed in her mind, and many others. But her memories were there too, not going away any time soon. She was glad, since her others disappeared. 

Thomas was talking about how they were sent here, and Gally was right for exposing them and clearing up the topic of suspicion. "We did this to them. You, too, Teresa."

"Nice, mate." Newt picked at some vines circled on a thick pipe of bamboo. "Exposing isn't the word I'd use."

Minho was quiet, refusing to make eye contact with her nor Thomas. He was staring at the ground pretty much. He must be pissed. 

"No, it can't be. Us?" Teresa was in denial, blue eyes searching Thomas's. "Impossible."

"I saw it. She saw it." 

Teresa then saw her.. and she wrinkled her nose at her. "You saw me?"

"I knew your name before Thomas did." She admitted, using her fingers to caress her kneecaps. "Sorry."

"Griever's will kill every night."

"We already know that. It's been two or three days and you were passed out, sleeping the nights away." Minho said, his body language distant.

"How are we okay, though?" 

"Teresa had serums." They all looked at Teresa and she averted her gaze to a piece of fabric that was used to fix up a wound on Thomas's wrist. 

"This is all of our faults." Thomas mentioned, shaking his head at himself. "We-"

"Hey." Newt cut him off and he was serious. "Don't do that. This isn't your fault."

"It is." She shrugged her shoulders then rubbed at her eyelids. 

"No, it's not. You want to know why? Because you're here and the past doesn't matter." Newt put his hand on the bamboo caged door and he looked at them dead in the faces. "What matters is right now."

"If we hadn't went in the Maze.. Alby would still be alive."

"He would've died for nothin' if it weren't for your shucked asses." He pressed; his hand squeezing the grid. "Alby would've said what I'm saying."

She and Thomas sent Newt a signal that he was correct and held in their guilt and shame. Teresa was lost as always, her arms woven on her chest. "You guys were brave, doing what you did," The British boy pointed at the three of them. "All of you. Finish what you started."

They nodded, trio contemplating on what they were to do. They were in the Slammer, Gally talking about tactics with the remaining survivors. "We were given a choice to follow him or the traitors. We choose you." 

They were greeted by a few Gladers that were sent to fetch the three convicted, and Thomas was too weak to stand, so he was dragged. Teresa and her were held with their hands behind their backs, making them powerless and tied with rope for no escape. Gally was seen using his knife as a chisel to cross out the names on the wall, his structure terse. She didn't like it either, but this wasn't their in faults, at the end. It was WICKED. 

Thomas was dropped unceremoniously in front of the Maze doors, three hand crafted offering poles built into the ground. This was scary, what was he going to do? Banish them? What the..? She was held by one of his kronie's next to Teresa and she grumbled at how coarse the rope was on her wrists. Testing the bondage, it was rather snug and she couldn't wrench it out no matter what. 

Gally stopped chiseling the last line across the bold  **ALBY** , using his index finger and thumb to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Ugh, this must be the hardest thing I have to do."

"Why are you doing this? Do you think this justifies what's happening?" Teresa asked publicly and she struggled a little on her hold. "Why are you banishing us?"

He walked around them to hand the knife to his friend, scratching the side of his head. "This isn't a banishing."

Her and Teresa stared at one another for a second then back to the tall boy. "W.. Wha-"

"This is a sacrifice." 

A pause was made, and she quickly reacted. "Are you kidding me?" She blown her eyes up, searching for Minho in the crowd. He was seen giving a nod to Newt who was opposite, hands on their cleavers. 

Teresa tugged on the ropes but was being led to the poles that were in the ground, kicking a bit. "Wait!"

She was being led to the second pole, and she panted, seeking over her shoulders to see if Minho was going to do the evident aid that she needed. "M-Minho! Do something!"

Minho was quiet and wasn't ready for the attack, Gally putting his hand out at Teresa. "You think I'm going to let you guys back in there!? You're nuts! I don't need to have any more deaths in our home!" He roared, fed up with their excuses. "Everything will be back to normal once we give you to the Grievers! I _have_ to do this!"

"No you don't!" She pleaded, and she kicked like Teresa, the boys having to hold down her legs simultaneously to tie them also. 

" _Shut up!_ " He hurled his insult at her. "Tie him up too!" The boys looked down at Thomas weakened on the ground and shamefully hesitated, their hands opening then closing. "Are you _deaf?_ Do as I say!" Gally commanded, blinded by greed of getting the deed done. When the boys were picking them up, Winston and Frypan got his attention. 

"Gally, this don't feel right, man." Frypan said, gesturing to them being tied to the pole. 

"Yeah." Winston frowned, ready to step in. 

"You really think they should stay here and try to brainwash you-!" 

She saw Thomas sprout an uppercut to his left, the boy falling and clutching his stomach, his right being subdued with a swing under his legs to get him down. He took his knife and aimed it at them. "Don't get up!" He faked being out of energy.. Clever.

Gally was going to step in by swiveling around, only to be met with a sheathing sound, and a sharp edge put on his shoulder. It was Minho's cleaver, not daring him to make another step to them. "I dare you."

Newt came to Teresa and let her down by cutting her out of the rough bindings, same with her. Minho came to them and made sure she remained behind him, his cleaver being passed to her in knowing she can wield it. He had an extra in his pocket, hand on it reassuringly. She saw them all huddle, the boys that were fooled going back to Gally. 

Clint saw that it was not in their hands to hand out punishments like this, his resisting stopping fully. "Gally, what the shuck, man." Gally regarded him with a glare, his stubbornness growing stronger. 

"This is it." Thomas hissed. "We're going back in there. Because we have a way out."

He was sneered at by their new 'leader', and he continued, "We don't belong here, Gally. We're leaving, but you don't have to. Anyone is welcome to join us if they want a new chance of freedom. This isn't our home. We were all trapped here. This isn't what life has to be. This is our chance to have our own decisions and live right."

His words had no effect except for the regular people that stuck up for them, Frypan, Winston, Clint, and other Gladers coming forward without waiting. Gally saw them and scoffed, his exhale coming out in disbelief. The division was about 12 out of 20. It was clear, obvious, that Gally had his followers believing his shit. "You can come with us, Gally."

They pleaded, at least out of kindness for him to save his own life. "You can."

His last words came out insignificantly. "Good luck."

They had to accept that this boy didn't want to be converted to their acts and they bid him farewell, turning then heading into the Maze, their lives at stake and going to change forever with or without Gally. Running was the one thing that the Runners were experts at, up at the top with Thomas and Newt and Minho. Minho was confident, showing them and motivating with his words to the Section that lead them to their hopes and dreams, Chuck barely keeping up.

 

They met it not too long later, everyone gathering their breaths and holding their sticks. They were up for a fight, a war, a rocking battle. It was now or never. Minho checked the opening that had the vault, a Griever patrolling the front of it in such a cliche motion. "There's one."

"Just one?" Newt hushed, his stick in hand being gripped. 

"Yeah. Got the device?"

"Yep." 

They take out the object that will gain them access to the walls lifting, the crackles coming from it being hushed into Chuck's hands. "You will be the one to hold it."

"Good that." Thomas agreed then clapped his hands on Chuck's back, knowing he got this, even for his young age and being trusted with their way out. "You hold onto that and never let it go."

"I understand."

"We ready for this?" Minho asked Thomas, who reminded him of a military official who'll lead his troops to battle. 

"Yeah. Alright, guys, let's go!" He bellowed, his veins looking like they'll pop out of his neck. They ran off to the opening, their screams and shouts meshing with hers, sticks held high and cleavers wielded in showing they will fight to the tooth and nail. The Griever's metallic legs galloped it's gigantic body at them, charging and screaming through it's sharp fanged mouth. They used their sticks to fight it off and get it to face the opposite way of the wall, so that they could get close to the wall and use the device to let them in.

Except Chuck had it, and Teresa was with him, they were still coming up to them.

" _Hurry_ , Chuck!" She screeched when one of the pincers was trying to throw her off the edge, but kept her feet rooted to the ground, refusing to fall. 

Throughout the fighting, Chuck was dangling off the edge, he must have dropped it. She was going to help until Teresa got him, and she saw Minho shout in frustration, the Griever's face right in his. She stabbed the Griever in the eye and it yelped visually, knocking her down and snatching her breath from her lungs. 

Teresa and Chuck reached the exit and the beep resounded, the walls lifting as it was supposed to. The Griever was chaotic, trying to push against the many Gladers. It managed to slip it's tail and hit a random Glader she couldn't remember off the edge, his body surpassing the shadows of its depths. She squeaked and got up to fight again, stabbing repeatedly at it's sides and back. "Get off of him, you shucking stupid-" She swore, Minho's body nearly being put under. 

She was scared and saw Teresa trying to figure out the vault, seeing a technological screen popping up.

Her shriek rang out, "What's the code! _The code!_ "

" _Code?!_ " Thomas asked, his throat must hurt from yelling so much. "Minho!"

Minho was groaning under the pressure of the Griever head against his stick, his tan skin showing a sheen of sweat. _"What!"_

"What's the sequence! The sequence pattern!"

It clicked in his head and he yelled the numbers one by one. "7!"

Teresa typed it fast like lightning, ears straining to hear. 

"1! 5!" Minho grunted and turned his head away from the Griever as it roared in his face, the air hitting his hair. "2...6!"

Her hands pressed the multiple numbers, having to turn the wheel and find the appropriate buttons to press. Chuck was panicking, shaking like a leaf. "What's the rest!" Teresa screamed, bouncing on her heels practically. 

She relayed it to Minho, since the numbers weren't enough. "Minho, the rest of the numbers!"

The Gladers punctured the Griever enough to have him back off of Minho's body, his legs scrambling to stand and back up to the wall. Two more Griever's climbed up the confines of the passage way, the sides filling with metal and stingers. He needed to say the rest. "Uhhh- 4! 8!"

Punching in 4 and 8, Thomas was ushering everyone into the vault, his hands pushing everyone in. "Everyone in!"

"Minho!" Teresa warned, seeing what was going on behind her. " _Minho!_ "

" ** _3!_** " He finished the sequence with that number, jumping in last minute. 

The beep happened to play again, the walls crunching down one by one. The Griever at the end splattered like a pancake, and the back up wall started to fall, it slamming straight down on the Griever that was about to head butt them. It's insides spurted on the floor, everyone was pressed into each other, the room not easy to fit all of them. It went pitch dark and she was needing to hold onto Minho, finding his wrist bands and tugging him to her with a cry, having him hold her close to his chest. 

She knew it was him, just by his scent and he was clearly bleeding somewhere on his chest and head. She didn't mind it, but she was thinking of the ways of how they escaped. They escaped. It was over. 

Or they thought it was.

The Vault creaked open, light peeling the darkness out of their vision and some of them had to cover their eyes. They were forced to step out, the grates under the shoes making it echo down the hall they were in. Or was it something else? Minho inhaled sharply, lifting his head to see a single light displayed above them. The hall erupted in lights, it stretched down the whole thing, showing them the way to the rest of the Maze. 

"Minho." She muttered, and wanted to go one way, but Thomas was going to go in his own way. She had to be lead on by him, their hands intertwining as tight as they ever done. They were on their own, no more Grievers, beetle blade, no more Glade. This was strange.. Were they really done? It didn't feel like the end yet. 

Teresa saw a blood stain on pipes that ran along the hall, and she had a bad feeling. Where did that come from? "Blood.. Thomas, what do you think happened here?"

"I dunno. But let's keep going."

"Minho.." She repeated, as the Gladers were walking, their footsteps playing out on the floor, their shadows creeping behind them. "You know I was sent here.. Right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Give me a chance." She whispered, stopping to put his hands on her face. "Give me a chance to explain."

"I already heard you. I don't need you to relive it again, whatever life you had." Minho held her cheeks and stroked her cheekbones, watching her look up at him with that style of her lips trembling and blood dripped from her temple. He didn't care. What she did, or was going to do. She was under their control. There was nothing to explain. She was a new person. 

All of a sudden, her name popped into her mind. She hitched her breath and the waterworks flooded, dazed up to her boyfriend. They might be late to catching up to their group but she needed to tell him. "My name.. I know my name. Minho, my name." Her name, something she had been trying to figure out, she was going to say it but he hushed her. 

"You don't need to say it." He smiled faintly, his own eyes tearing up slightly. His mono lids fluttered and he swallowed with difficulty, nearly gulping. 

"I don't?"

"Nope.." He grinned and caressed her hair now, the blood crusted into it but he didn't care at all, like with everything else. "You're my shuck face, dude."

"And you're my slinthead." She giggled, but it was interrupted with her sob, their kiss meeting and locking, her hands going onto his to squeeze his skin and knuckles. He was everything to her. No wonder she was called ambitious. She wanted him and she had him. 

Her ambition was to love someone. And that someone was Minho. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this love and action packed story! I hope you love it! I might make one for the Scorch Trials, but that's only if I get some love from some of y'all out there.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you love this story as much as I do. Drop a kudos and spread the story to those who might be interested for a Minho/Reader fanfic. I'd appreciate it.


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